Be still, oh
beating heart.
I sidle close after this swirling mess of a day with its
tears and tantrums and timeouts. Night has fallen, and with it a veil that
softens the rough edges of glaring hours. I find your little body, a slight
form under the blankets, and pull tight, hoping to grasp your heart somehow in
all these layers. I’m pulling and praying and begging God to make this
connection when I’ve gone and frayed all the edges. I fear the hypocrisy of my
feeble words, so I put my hope into these breaths that rise and fall with
yours, calming, slowing, till I feel this space between us tauten and still.
Still.
My soul, the Lord is on our side and he speaks peace to hurricanes, yes, even ours. One green eye peeks out from under the
blanket hideaway, then a hand finds my face, and, oh, a multitude of sins are covered. Let
the world somersault around us, I have found the one my soul loves, and we are anchored still.
~lg
