Just Breathe
Last evening Noah called me into his bedroom after I had already put him to bed. As I usually do, I let out a low groan as I had JUST sat down. I swear my kids have radar and as soon as my butt touches anything remotely soft, their sensors go off, and they call, "Moooommm!" Anyway, I made my way back there, did my usual lecture on not calling me bc Landon was already asleep and then asked what he wanted. He said, "Mom, I wanted to know if you already put your cream on because I want to smell your face with the cream on." I told him that I had not gotten ready for bed yet, so no, I did not have the cream on. To which he responded by taking my face between his two little hands and putting his nose right up to my cheek and taking a deep whiff. "Nope, no cream yet." "Mom, will you come tuck me in again when you have your cream on because I want to smell you." "Sure, Noah, sure thing!"
I can still remember my mom's smell. I am weird about smells. My brother used to make fun of me because when I was little I used to smell everything (I shouldn't lie..I still smell everything!). One of my favorite scents was books. Did you know Berenstein Bear books have their own smell? So do Golden Books and Scholastic book fair books. Mmmm. Anyway...back to my mom. I loved her smell. So much so that when she was gone at night (which was often as she worked nights), I would sleep with her pillow until one day she got tired of reclaiming it when she got home and just let me have it. I still have it. My mom's smell made me feel safe and comfortable and welcome and accepted and loved. It was beautiful to me. So it is quite extraordinary to me that my children now smell me. For the most part, I think they feel the same thing as I did when I hugged my mom. They feel safe and loved. Or at least that is my prayer. The other morning Landon told me that in the mornings I smell, "Unnormal," but aside from that I think they feel comforted by my presence. It must have been a rough night 
The other night I was at the end of my rope. You know...when you feel like you have nothing more to give. No more energy. No more grace. No more patience. No more anything. But as parents, we don't get sick days or personal days. No matter what we feel, our children have needs. Meals still need to be given, messes cleaned up, questions answered, hugs given. There is no pause. Well, unless you hide in the closet and don't tell anyone where you are. I might have done that once...or twice. But generally speaking, no matter how weary we are, no matter how awful we feel physically or emotionally, we still have to give. Thats why we sometimes cry while driving down the road when a song comes on, or when an elderly woman says something nice (or not so nice) to us in a grocery store line, or when a friend calls out of the blue to say she has been thinking of us, or when a friend takes the time to remind us we are normal, or when our kids grab our faces, and drink in our scent as though it were perfume. But sometimes we can't cry. Maybe because for so long we have been running...from one thing to the next. Constantly. Then we just feel bone weary. Tired in our souls.
I have been there a few times. And while I dont have all of the time in the world to work through things. To feel the emotions or to find all of the answers. I am finding that if I open my eyes and my ears and my heart, I can drink in the scent of my Heavenly Father. He is here. In the midst of the chaos and hurt and disillusionment that comes with living in this world. He is here. I am not alone. I would love a week long retreat to refresh my soul. But its just not possible for me right now. But what I do have are the daily ways that God sends His love and encouragement my way. Its like a life ring. I need only grab it. Or rather, He is Breath. I need only breathe. And I can do that.
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