They ask me to please let them go.
I know I am in for a day of it if I say yes.
And I know the memories will be lost forever if I say no.
My little princess girls want to help their daddy in the wee hours.
When the darkness is the deepest.
And the Joy Thief can be relentless.
When the mundane is elevated.
But the farmer isn't himself and that which was once fun for him; now produces anxiety.
Once there was joy when the kids wanted to get up to milk.
An adventure; counting stars.
Sometimes the Northern Lights.
It was one of the gifts Elijah would often share of the starlit walks to
the barn with his earthly father.
Oh how he was just beginning to see the wisdom in the life we lead.
Now, it produces angst and I balk at letting them go.
In the end I say yes.
My farmer assures me it will be ok.
I know he is trying.
They understand the need to be very responsible.
They gather their barn gear before they go to bed.
They want to be all ready.
They will perfect the stealth their father possesses to scare me out of my skin.
In the early hours, I don't hear them go. Stealth lesson complete.
They come home sleepy and hungry.
It is the farming way.
I make them hot chocolate and breakfast while they take showers.
The farmer comes in and I want to know how it went.
He says it wasn't bad.
He tried to relax and enjoy.
He chose the moment.
No more. No less.
It is all God asks.
How this joy thief needs to go.
I don't want to miss the days that we have left.
The burden of each day weighted down.
I finish feeding the girls.
We get ready to start school.
I breathe deep.
These 2 girls are a gift.
They were not part of "my plan".
They are the balm to the wound.
A reason to get up in the morning.
Their giggles like a million bells peeling together.
They bring us all great joy.
Each gift a lesson during these trying days.
So much to be grateful for.
Pushing through the pain and heartache to find the good.
Glory in his holy name;
let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice.