No church
It snowed most of the morning. Church was cancelled at the last minute. This used to be unequivocal cause for celebration. Now my feelings about it are mixed. It just meant a longer day at home with my teens who actively avoid my presence. I spent a little time singing Primary songs that I was meant to lead in Primary today. Then I baked. A friend invited us over for dinner, so I made bread and rolls to take to their house. I also made buttermilk biscuits to top pear cobbler. That was fantastic! I had the Asian pear filling already made in the freezer. In among the baking I shoveled the snow a couple of times. It was the light fluffy version, with giant flakes. I slipped and fell near the end of one round, landing on the heel of my hand. My wrist seems okay, but I came inside and looked at ergonomic mouse options for work.
It took three tries to get the three of us seated in the same room for family counsel.The first time the kids were still drowsing on the floor in Amelia's bedroom and refused to move. The second time Tom was gone. I still don't know where he went. The third time we had just returned from dinner. We briefly reviewed the calendar and then I made a few observations about living water, and that was it. It must have been a good day, because Tom agreed to offer the prayer.
I keep reminding myself to let my kids be where they are. I reread Mary Oliver's poem "The Journey." Still, I feel sad about the ways my life is far from the life I wanted. Don't mistake me. It isn't any farther than it was when I was married. In fact, it's closer. But I do wish we were all having a more stable, congenial family experience as I try to implement Come, Follow Me in a way that makes sense for where we are. I regret my immaturities in the ways I used to deal with the resistance I encountered to building that in my marriage. I am grateful to have a longer view now, and to be figuring out the pieces that are my responsibility--and the pieces that aren't.
I just keep trying to show up in my children's lives as a loving parent. What they do with that is up to them.
It took three tries to get the three of us seated in the same room for family counsel.The first time the kids were still drowsing on the floor in Amelia's bedroom and refused to move. The second time Tom was gone. I still don't know where he went. The third time we had just returned from dinner. We briefly reviewed the calendar and then I made a few observations about living water, and that was it. It must have been a good day, because Tom agreed to offer the prayer.
I keep reminding myself to let my kids be where they are. I reread Mary Oliver's poem "The Journey." Still, I feel sad about the ways my life is far from the life I wanted. Don't mistake me. It isn't any farther than it was when I was married. In fact, it's closer. But I do wish we were all having a more stable, congenial family experience as I try to implement Come, Follow Me in a way that makes sense for where we are. I regret my immaturities in the ways I used to deal with the resistance I encountered to building that in my marriage. I am grateful to have a longer view now, and to be figuring out the pieces that are my responsibility--and the pieces that aren't.
I just keep trying to show up in my children's lives as a loving parent. What they do with that is up to them.
Comments
Post a Comment