Before

This poem was published in Issue #16: MOTHER at www.thewildword.com. 

Before,
I knelt twice daily and devotedly read my part.
Filled journals with musings and confirmations–
My offerings tempered by righteous belief.

Time was freely had and freely given
In easy relation with the Divine.

Righteous and worthy felt I before my God.
Checklists of conformity easily ticked.
Reflections confirmed my worth in looking the part.

Now,
Too often my daily devotions lay
Forgotten at my bedside.
Spiritual musings quickly passed over
As I rush
Answering the morning cries of the youngest.

Supplications now take form
In bowls of sliced apples
Warm bread thick with butter
Small glasses of milk.
My cup runs over with the running of errands
And performing of duties for others.
Washing dimpled hands and fine, curly heads.
Nurturing.

Quiet moments bring questions too lofty
For the little time I have before they wake or need.

Busy-
Means I don’t have to think about
How shaken I am
By the fact that I don’t recognize my own body
Or how marrow-deep my weary is
Or how Sleep has taken the place of my soul-sustaining Faith
As Sacred.

Sleep
Is now the spring from which I fill my cup.
Too often I run dry after pouring into others’
And I sit
Empty and waiting.

“As a mother, my job is to take care of the possible 
and trust God with the impossible.” *
The impossible comes daily;
Sneaker-waves of doubt overwhelm me.

But so too comes Trust.

I see it reflected in the small eyes looking up into mine
As I turn heavenward and ask
For the help of my Mother-Father
And feel the encircling and strengthening of Their love;
As mine circle about my own children.

There are no longer checklists or formulas for how.
There is only the Why.


*Quote by Ruth Bell Graham