Joyful tears of gratitude for my children; they are signs of the mercy and grace of God.
I am in the springtime of a new life. A life where I am actually alone at times for the first time in 32 years. This week my husband was on a hunting trip (he only shoots what we can eat) and my youngest at school, then at a part-time job.
My body has not quite caught up to this new reality because as the mother of nine, I was always on call. My ears are trained, listening for the sounds of my children playing, working and sleeping , always ready to soothe or help them.
The result is that I am still tense, rushing to squeeze in some time to write when in fact, God has graciously handed me hours of the day where I am free. I am free to write, pray, even relax and enjoy the beautiful gardens, and acres of land the surround our old house.
Although my body and subconscious have not yet adjusted, I thank the Lord for this new freedom to start to write again. The walls of ice which imprisoned my writing skills are melting in this new springtime in my writer’s soul.