It is Well

These last two weeks have been perfection. Not because everything has gone perfectly. Actually, they haven't gone perfectly at all. Or at least not as planned. But because I'm right where I need to be. A little while ago, I posted Heavy on the Bitter, Light on the Sweet. I knew the feeling would shift, but didn't know when. It has shifted. It is heavy on the sweet.

These last two weeks I've been home for Christmas break. Home. We had a beautiful Christmas. I soaked up the family time, the kids' excitement, the time. The precious time. The kids were supposed to go home with my parents after Christmas. But one with the flu and the other with an upper respiratory infection changed that. I wiped noses, cleaned bathrooms, washed and washed and washed clothes and blankets. I sanitized and sterilized every surface many times. And it was perfection. Not because my kids were sick, but because I was being mom. Not pressured by other obligations. Feeling no guilt about telling others no. Just being mom to my most precious treasures.

This New Year's week, the kids were supposed to spend time with Chad's parents. Again, plans turned upside down and shaken kept them home. As much as I know two grandma's hearts were saddened by changed plans, this mama's heart was blessed to just have time. I've relished my son's corny jokes and accidental sense of humor. I've completely soaked up my daughter's practical, 4 year old observations about the news or the weather. I've watched more Disney channel and Finding Bigfoot than I ever thought I'd have the patience to sit through. We've watched every episode of Duck Dynasty at least twice. And I've loved the sweetness of it. Every single minute of it.

I feel like the passage from Isaiah that I referenced in my last post is our theme verse for this year. He is doing a new thing. Not just in me, but in our home, in our family.

This time, these moments are heavy on the sweet. These moments are the peace like a river attending my way. These moments cause my heart to cry out, "It is well. It is well with my soul."

Running on Empty

I sat down today to write and just felt empty.  No words.  No thoughts.  Not even a sensible sentence to string together.  I was a little frustrated at first.  And I almost walked away from this lovely computer.  And then my sweet girl started playing with the iPod.  The first words played spoke to the emptiness of my mind: "When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll.  Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well.  It is well with my soul."

My "empty" today doesn't come from anything wrong.  Just the feeling of an empty tank.  Just that feeling of too much going on and not enough of me to go around for all of it.  Just that feeling of empty.  There's nothing left in my tank and I need to refuel.  Yet there's a talkative pre-schooler and two soon-to-be fifth graders keeping me running on just the fumes.

Just as I'm tempted to shut down for the night, certain that on empty, there's nothing I can say, I hear words that speak peace to the emptiness.  I hear words that remind me that when I'm running on empty, his peace is right where I am.  I hear words that remind me just how well it is with my soul.

God doesn't promise that my tank won't hit empty.  And he certainly never promised to bail me out when the "empty" is completely of my own doing.  But He does offer His peace.  In the good times and the bad.  In the happy and the sad.  In the full times and the empty.  He offers me rest and a chance to refuel.

Tonight I'm quietly reminded by a simple song on a iPod that while I'm on empty, truly it is well with my soul.