Just Faith, Everyday

We had the conversation the other day. I looked up at the calendar in the kitchen and realized--then said casually out loud--oh, it’s the second anniversary of Buster going to heaven. What’s heaven, Mama? Looking at her little face, I found myself confronted with one of the most interesting little perplexed looks I’ve seen on her in awhile.  She wanted to know.  She was determined to know. I wasn’t sure I could do this, but took a deep breath and dived right in: It’s where Buster is now, enjoying lots of snacks and playing with squirrels, I said. So they have lots of treats for doggies? Yes, Isabella. And cupcakes? Yes, probably. And flowers? And houses with front and back porches? Yes, all kinds of beautiful things, Isabella. A pause.  Can we go there? Well, no, not for a long time, I think. And it’s very far away. Can we go there by plane? No, Isabella, no, it’s too far for that! And you can only go there one time--you can’t come back. (I was already laughing a little i...

How can I find calm in the midst of trying to do everything at once? On any given day to clean out dishwasher while eating breakfast, then go work out, go to appointments for myself and Isabella, manage tantrums, make lunch, grade papers, bake cookies, make dinner, give bath, read bedtime books, prepare writing workshops and class discussion, prepare bags for the next morning....and on and on, in a cycle, with little to no appreciation but a paycheck (which is nice, and pays the bills, but doesn’t fill my soul so much as deplete it when rote). Maybe there’s something to be said for the humility needed to complete such days that turn into weeks. This level of humility tempters. Nonetheless, somewhere in the midst of making all these decisions and accomplishing all these goals there needs to be time to will the one thing . Time for a little refill. So this year it’s fasting from anger: taking a step back when my three-year-old drops and mashes Playdoh in weird places or writes on t...