He asks me to go out with him, for just a while. The house is quiet, only the older ones hanging out quietly. The day had been full. Jam packed full of activity; school, meals, friends, cousins, parks, gymnastics and shopping – fun. Lots of fun.
I’m tired, but he has been in front of a screen in his box of an office all day long, so we step out into the dark night.
As we sit on a bench and talk – not too deep, just enough to skim the surface, he asks me how I’m doing.
I tell him of the people in que, of the friends I’m always failing, of the juggling and dropping of relationships. This wasn’t about to-do lists and responsibility, this was about relationship. Friends, friends I love dearly, that I can’t seem to squeeze into these short 7 day weeks… I just get overwhelmed.
We talk of our roles reversed, how he is always home and I am always out and we smile.
Cool and fresh, the night air brings refreshment. There aren’t any answers out here, but somehow voicing the struggle seems to help.
We walk in the fresh air and talk about nonsense that makes me laugh. I hear my voice echoing in the night and I feel the laughter bubbling up inside me and I know. This was the moment I needed, this was why I needed to step out of my world for just a moment.
The Father gently calls: “Come away with me my beloved, come away and rest.”