I didn't even try, last night, to make any progress with unpacking or cleaning up the debris spewn all over our house since coming home from a nine day vacation to Illinois to visit my in-laws. I was so discouraged with how little progress I'd made in the two days I'd been back, and the enormity of the job just made me feel tired. And I was tired. All my energy was gone and my spirits were wallowing in muddy despair after a crying, whining, wailing early bedtime for three out-of-sorts children. So I vegged, and saved the whole job of sorting and cleaning for today.
Only My Hero knew my discouragement, and when I woke up this morning the house was clean, my robe and slippers, coffee, and a love note waiting for me in the middle of a calm, orderly kitchen. My first emotions were fear and regret for how late he must have stayed up last night to make that happen. After two LONG days at work. But as it sunk in, my admiration for him has taken over. It will be a good day together today. I'm always so humbled by these over-the-top acts of love.

It's the calm in the storm I asked God for last night. I asked Him why he didn't step in and make that miracle happen for me when I asked Him. He felt too far away to make any difference in my terrible evening, and my own self-loathing for the unloving ways I dealt with my kids made me wonder if He really made any difference to me at all. I felt like I understood the Psalms better, when David cried out to God over and over again that He felt so far away. "When are you going to come to my rescue, God?"

But He did. My impatience gives God a deadline. I'd like Him to prevent evenings like that, and maybe as He teaches me patience and helps me develop more of His love, those kinds of experiences will be less frequent...at least my own part in them. I wanted to know how to calm the storm myself. And I knew I didn't have it in me. Powerless and out of control, and faithless that God would step in and change things. He did anyway. Before bed last night I went into the kids' bedroom and laid down with Peanut Butter. He didn't wake up, I just held his hand and watched him sleep and prayed for him. And in the middle of the night Christopher Robin climbed in bed next to me, and I put my arm around his skinny middle and my cheek next to his warm skin and fell asleep with my lanky 5 year old.

This morning I marvel at the calm. "Peace, be still."