I took two weeks off blogging, with the intention of finding my voice. Instead I have come down with an stubborn case of writer's block. I have started and abandoned half a dozen posts. I want to write for the sake of writing but a topic eludes me. My days seem depressingly void of inspiration.
My Clara is turning two on Wednesday. Time marches on. And lately with my time and patience stretched to the breaking point, that seems not all bad. But then I heard this song on the radio yesterday for the first time. I sat in the car and wept.
Not just about Clara, but about all four of them. The older two especially, their time when I can shelter them is running out. For Brandon, the time when he wants my shelter is long past.
But this was not meant to be a melancholy post. I don't really feel melancholy. Just introspective. And tired. Always tired.
I took this picture this week and it made me smile. The Weekids have spent so much time together this summer that it seems they are always bickering. But then I look at this and see it's not really always.
It's my prayer that when I cannot shelter them any more, that they will have learned to find security in a God who's never stretched too thin.
But also I hope maybe...in each other.