Campfire

I am sick.

I am sick as a dawg.

I spent the entirety of yesterday in the bed.

I woke up this morning with the other half of my bed empty because my hard-working husband had to hop a 6am plane to Boston. I didn't have the strength or the desire to pull on his pants legs and beg him to stay as he kissed me goodbye. I know it's heart wrenching enough for him to leave me with the kids when I'm sick.

I simultaneously love and hate that it's hard for him: the tug of war between providing and staying to serve and care for me.

He's a good man.

When I heard the littles opening the pantry doors to break out the candy or oatmeal cream pies or other teeth-rotting sustenance, I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen to get them some breakfast and make a cup of hot tea for me.

I sent up a silent prayer to God:

Lord, please let my children be gentle with me today. And, please help me to be gentle with them.

Yes, we need gentleness today.

I turned on the tea kettle. Instant oatmeal for the kiddos. Hot tea for me.

While the water was heating, my three-year old climbed up onto the stool across from me:

"Momma, do you know what we did 'esterday? We made a campfire wiff Daddy. And, we didn't have any gwaham cwackers, so we just made marshmallow snacks."

I responded, "Really? That's so cool, buddy."

"And, do you know what we did wiff our marshmallows?"

"What? What did you do?"

"We put them on sticks and pwetended they were Anakin in the forest Star Wars (aka "Return of the Jedi)." *See here if you're totally confused.

I broke out into hysterical laughter. Sick, sore throat, anything-but-gentle, hysterical laughter.

I shook my head and smiled as I poured hot water over three miniature bowls of oatmeal. And, I sent up a prayer of thanks to the One who knows just what we need, just when we need it.

Yes, Lord. Give us a gentle day. But, keep sending the laughter.

It's healing this Momma.