She moves with automaticity,

an art form in its own right.

She’ll work all day after a

somewhat sleepless night.

She’s up with the kids,

or just right before.

She wants to have everything perfect

before they rush out the door.

She irons clothes, packs lunches

and writes sweet little notes.

She helps tiny fingers zip up their coats.

She bends down to wipe chocolate

from a chubby little face.

She stoops down to tie a ragged shoe lace.

She will kiss them good-bye and they will be on their way

and she will dive into her jam-packed day.

She knows all to well what this day will hold.

Dishes to wash and laundry to fold.

Then there’s grocery shopping that’s economical

and healthy to eat,

followed by errands to run and a teacher to meet.

She hasn’t even glanced in the mirror today,

and if she did she would be discouraged from

seeing that her hair is getting gray.

Her wrinkles are creeping in and she

feels so very plain,

yet she puts a smile on her face

you won’t here her complain.

Her sighs slip out unintentionally and

surprise her a bit.

She laughs at herself, knowing

she doesn’t have time for a hissy fit.

She momentarily wishes for

a moment’s peace and perhaps even quiet.

But she pushes that feeling down deep

and instead tries to hide it.

The kids will be home soon and

she knows full well,

they will have homework to do,

and a thousand words to spell.

She will help with addition and read

the little ones books,

then she will have baths to give

and dinner to cook.

She’s unappreciated by most and

usually doesn’t mind

but tonight she has emotions

of a different kind.

She’s weary from fulfilling

the needs of others

and she feels guilty for being tired

from just being “mother”.

She wonders if God’s disappointed

because she is feeling this way

and tries to be thankful

for this ordinary day.

She longs for peace and rest

for her tired soul,

she doesn’t have to say it at all,

her Father already knows.

So she waits until her children

are sleeping peacefully in bed,

and she rushes to bow down

before Jesus and be spiritually fed.

The task of raising children

is the greatest calling one can receive

and she can do it with honor and grace,

with heavenly reprieve.

She knows her greatest legacy will be

the children she will raise,

and she will do it with joy in her heart,

a continuous song of praise.

The peace she longs for won’t be found

in a spotless house or the air of quiet.

She can’t wish it or think it,

no money can buy it.

She knows it is found by resting

in God’s Holy Spirit.

His peace is all around when

she is quiet enough to hear it.

The peace she is looking for is found

when she holds her sweet little ones,

when she is “clothed with strength and dignity

and she can laugh at the days to come”.

She rises up in prayer

in her whole armor of God.

no need to fake everything is all right

or put on a fancy facade.

God’s peace can be found amidst sticky floors

and screaming kids running in the house, down the hall

His peace IS the calm in the midst of it all.

So, she smiles to herself and thanks God for the reminder.

No matter how low she seems to get, he always seem to find her.