Those little hands are Annabelle's. She is 3 now. I am not entirely sure where time went or how she is now a preschooler rather than a toddler. She is loving and strong and vibrant. Everything she is meant to be. She is amazing.
But those hands, those hands remind me of the gentleness I need to put forward. The soft that makes me the woman God created me to be. I focus on helping my children to be who they are called, but I often forget who I am called to be.
But those hands, those hands remind me of the gentleness I need to put forward. The soft that makes me the woman God created me to be. I focus on helping my children to be who they are called, but I often forget who I am called to be.
Life is hard. Very hard. So many moving parts that create an insurmountable wall of fear and sadness. I often want to quit. I want to give up on everything and just fade into the darkness in my mind.
but I don't
but I don't
and I won't
Because those little hands need my guidance still.
Some days I can hardly breath. I just don't have the energy. But I keep going, because this is part of what I am. Who I am.
I am trying to learn from it rather than be destroyed by it.
Often, I am bitter and angry. I want to be spiteful and vengeful. I am after all human. But instead I silence myself and quiet my heart.
I just pray that this cloud goes away.
