Today I woke up early enough to greet my kids up to get ready for school. I let Mr. Miller sleep in as he has let me do so so many days these past couple of weeks.
The babies slept in with their dad, and I took the girls to school, sipped on my morning drink, and listened to my audio book.
Not unlike I do every single morning.
But these mornings have been filled with immense grief, reflection, prayer, hope, and sadness these past couple weeks.
I am reminded again that God has us, He holds us in his tender care.
“Everything is under control” my book reminds, a tender mercy from heaven.
After Mr. Miller reluctantly leaves for work, I get my hands busy tidying my house.
Boy does it need it’s normal, functioning mother to run it.
It feels good to bless my family by getting my hands busy.
My heart is full of love and sadness, but the love helps hold the weight of grief from crashing down.
The grief rolls in in waves, in the little details and memories that come in so easily, and crash down so hard.
Everything is under control, I’m reminded.
I rock my baby extra long, just like I have been doing these past weeks.
My heart is healed by each session of singing lullabies together, snuggling, laughing, tickling, touching.
In the afternoon, Grae makes art while I plan out some outside landscape.
The spring air rolls in through the windows, the hope of summer tickling our noses.
Light fills the house, love swells, and the weight lessens.
Everything is under control.