“Dear Morning
you come
with so many angels of mercy
so wondrously disguised…”
This has been a really rough morning already.
First, Riley messed his bed in his crate… badly. I’ll spare you the details, but as much as I love that he doesn’t bark much, I also want to tell him and have him understand that this would have been a wonderful reason to bark right when it happened.
Then of course as I roused my husband from sleep and we spent the next twenty minutes cleaning up Riley and the crate and ourselves, the boys heard the commotion and woke.
Instead of coming out to see what was going on, my twins decided to play some game that resulted in a bloody nose… which they kept a secret until it had bled all over the bathroom sink. “I’m fine mom,” the bloodied twin said through the drip, drip, drip against the porcelain.
By the time I sat down to eat my breakfast, my peace was far from gone. The boys surrounded me and engaged in yet another game that left Cheerios and applesauce packet lids scattered across the floor.
“Hey mom, Riley’s eating a pencil!” was one of the last utterances I heard before disappearing into the quiet of my room for a bit. (Yes, I took care of the pencil first).
Here’s the thing about all the junk that made this a crazy, smelly, messy, bloody morning…
It distracted me from my thoughts.
I had trouble sleeping last night, a myriad of worries plaguing me as I tossed and turned. Some were sensical, some were silly. The worries and anxiety stayed with me through my workout and up until I entered our living room and saw the first disaster before me.
Then they went away, back into the recesses of my mind.
An odd sort of mercy, but there you go.
Sometimes mercy offered is odd, but still I’ll take it.
Because sometimes all it takes ordinary life with all its messy humanness to comfort us and return us to ourselves….
And to remind us how alive we really are.
