It's very quiet in my house right now. Which is why I'm still up and have the desire to write. I love nighttime quiet, but not morning quiet. There is a difference. At night the silence feels like a blanket settling over me, a tent that gives me a place to think. In the morning, it feels like a blanket weighing me down with a heavy, sleepy promise that the day can wait just a little longer.
One of the reasons I am enjoying this quiet is that Acadia is quite frankly driving me nuts with her constant motion and sound. She's so squirmy and fidgety and nothing is right. It's like being next to a person with ants crawling all over them, you really would like to run in the other direction! Sounds are too loud (or too quiet), the stuff sticks out of the sandwiches too far, her teeth feel like something is stuck in them, her pants are too loose or too tight, her hair is too frizzy, her skin is too itchy... you get the point. Of course I'm supposed to fix all this immediately, but without speaking. I can only say about 5 words before she cuts me off and talks loudly and rapidly over me so that I will not finish my sentence and thereby say something that she already knows. Heavens, it might be redundant, unacceptable to her, or completely uneccasary and we can't have extra words floating about willy-nilly in the air. Sigh...tonight she told me she feels awful all day long and that she needs more attention from me. So I promised it, but right now that is really not what I want to do.
But tommorow I will get up (with a giant heave of the morning heaviness blanketing me) and start again. And the Grace will be there, that is my comfort. I will brush the ants off my daughter, the cobwebs from my mind, and the snarls out of fine blonde hair. I will read and pray and ask Him what my kids need from me today, and for the grace to let go and give it freely, as I have received.