A Quiet Space

Finding Myself
The Quiet

Can I find
Has been so scattered cluttered

I hear
Little Boy-
He says,
“You’re not alone Abi. God is with you.”
He comforts- as he is let off the sick couch
And she
Is left
Alone. He is already thinking-
Before she even cries-
Before she even realizes-
He is offering his thoughts

Later he says,
“Mom, I want to see inside my stomach. What it looks like? I want
to see how God made it and how the food goes down and then comes out.”
Yes, this is the one who said,
“God is in the toilet paper.”
Big thoughts found in
The earthiness

I nestle- sweat tossed sick baby against my pillow
And hunker down
Side by side
In the bed.
He leans over and pats my shoulder,
“I love you, Mom.” Says he-my two year verbal wonder.

My funny one, he cracks a joke. I laugh.
He says, “What’s another name for a horse fly?”
I say, “Huh?”
He says, “ a Pegasus.” And grins and he made it up all by himself.

My tall one, tapes up his chore list, plugs in the MP3 player- and then-
Suddenly- I look- I see…
There he is, focused, working down that list and all around him
He has created
Order. Is this fruit? I taste it. It is good.
I think-
Maybe, maybe one day- they will all work hard like this.
I look around at the younger ones. It took the Tall One ten years
To get to this place.
I wait- patient. Patient.
Ten years or so…
A team to clean the house in a morning
And afternoons to find some joy together.

My little boy, he ponders slow, he ponders long-
And I am hurrying, hurry.
I miss him as I rush. I miss him
In the rush.
I want an unhurried quiet
I can listen
And he
Can sit
In that sweet, melting
With me.

My strong one manned the two remotes
On two longs day of illness.
He had it all
Under control.

We shake house from top
To bottom
To clean
The dirt
From weeks of illness
The start of school.

I hope.
I hope to be back here
And Soon.

A Can- Do Attitude

A Can-Do Attitude

Lately, I pondered a “Can- Do Attitude.”
In the face of mess, multitudes of jobs,
Family needs,
I found myself balking.
However, I determined that I would put
On a “Can-Do Attitude.”
In other words- dig in, shirt sleeves up,
Face the task, work hard, get it done.

This has been very helpful-
Whether it is trying to homeschool well children
While running up and down stairs taking care of sick ones,
Cleaning up water the baby “poured” all over the bathroom,
Digging in to daily chores,
Sorting outgrown kid clothes-
My overgrown garden (haven’t gotten there yet)
You name it- I probably need to do it and the only way to
Keep from sinking under what feels
Is to
Put on
“Can-Do Attitude.”
And this-
I am telling our children-
Especially today- Chore Day.

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. Philippians 4:13
Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus… Colossians 3:17



This week I got to know and watch

My little nephew- Sammy.

He is a little man of few words

But strong thoughts

And strong


He is just under two years

And a fun “companion”

For my own two year old-

If two year olds can be


He likes to “push the wire”

Walk “on the wild side”

Live life on the edge.


He was the first grandchild to jump

Off the diving board into his dad’s arms-

And he is one year old. He did it this past week.

Most other grandkids followed suit with:

“who else can be as brave as Sammy?!”

He is brave.

They say he knows no fear.

Here is a vignette from our week:

We gather round the table-

One grand feast to crown our week.

Dinner sounds rumble happily.

Grandkids fill the table.

Little One and Sam- they finish first and

Get to wander. From deck to deck-

They climb, explore.

I watch for Sam. He has to stay up on the

Deck- off the stairs.

As instructed- I tell his Dad-

Sam’s down- he’s moving down the steps.

Nathan nods- keeps eating. I keep watching.


Up he stands-

Strong voice-

It bellows,

“Sam-up on deck. Now.”

Sam looks.

He watches.

He chooses.

He moves up. He keeps coming…

Up. Up to the picnic table where we all are gathered.

His Dad-

He points his finger right at that little chest.

He says,

“That’s the way to do it Sam. That’s the way to do it.”

From up high- he catches Sam’s eye. He approves

Voice, face, eyes, and all.

And Sam.

He walks proud.

Little chest rises high.

Blue eyes glimmer. Sideways glance. I see

The joy light his face.

Later- after a slight injury-

He sits on the edge of a steep bench that drops to the ground below.

He barely balances- but he doesn’t fall.

He gets a little too precarious

And is told to sit.

He does.


He lives life on the edge- literally.

I watch him eating watermelon.

Watermelon he took off a plate

On his own


He sits.

He eats perfect bites

Of red fruit.

Legs together. Small hands

Grip tight.

Blue eyes watching. Always watching.

Munching eat bite deliberately.




I supervise as his mom packs up.

I’m in charge of Sam. He is standing next to me.

Distracted- I watch my own family-

Worried about a ruckus.

I look down. Sam’s gone. Where?

Where’s Sammy?

Just over there- by that tree.

I don’t take my eyes off him again-

A minute.

Or he’s gone.

He greets Grandad with a grin

And a call of joy

Every day he

Sees him

Come home from work.

He’s glad.

Reddish hair

Blue-slant eyes

Rosy mouth.

Little Tyke.

Little Man; we love.

Let’s all be brave