Friday, November 5, 2010


In the morning, when I hear a little voice calling me name, before I throw back the cozy covers and let the freezing air rush up and around.

While I'm making breakfast, 4 little egg yolks on four plates with four forks, balancing them on my arms like a waitress as I place them before 4 little people.

Throughout the day, here and there, all the while in this work that never ends, I live the prayers I say.  I lift up my kids again and again, this drafty little home I'm so thankful for, the man who works hard, the friends who bless, the daily struggle to do better.

At night I touch doorposts on the way upstairs, turning my mind and heart towards those inside each room, deep in their dreams.

This work us Mothers do is so hard.  We deal with the physical labor of daily chores, the emotional toll of helping and healing and shaping little hearts.  We deal with stress and strain of all of our grown up problems and then set that aside to deal with the intricate worlds of our children.  We look for all the right answers and don't always find them.  We want to be better, kinder, more effective mamas, but its a dance of two steps forward, one step back and more often than not, we lay in bed at night and grieve a day of failures.  Still we rise each morning with a day already full, facing us down.  And there is really nothing we can do about any of it. 

Except this:  we can pray.

In the years I've been Mama, that one person who tries to do it all and be all to everyone, nothing has given me more peace and hope in this life than the practice of speaking blessings over my home and those in it.  And I'm going to go ahead and say even if you aren't sure anyone is listening, you may be surprised by how helpful this is.

So I speak peace into door frames.  I bless the breakfast my little ones eat.  I murmur their names and their unique needs as I move in my daily rhythms.  I wipe down tables and bathrooms and whisper thanks as I go.

And while I'm working and blessing, something miraculous happens: Its me who comes away blessed, soothed, hopeful.

“Grant that I may not pray alone with the mouth; help me that I may pray from the depths of my heart”
~Martin Luther

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  1. What a beautiful post Lydia, thanks so much for sharing.

  2. Love this and so spot on for me right now! Thanks!

  3. Lydia, You have such a wonderful gift for writing and shaping a story into a treasure chest of learning, reflection and encouragement. I truly admire you, as a writer, mother and Christian. Your post was exactly what I needed to read this morning. Thank you!


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