i am.

staring alternately between the computer screen and a most glorious sunset.

the sky is pink. and purple. with bits of grey. and wispy clouds.

it was a gloomy stormy day. i woke up to the pitter patter of rain. made my way to mass. came home and stared at a dark. still sleeping house. dirty pots and pans littered the kitchen counter. plates were left on the table from dinner last nite. never cleared. because i was just too tired.

and i then i was mad. mad because things are always falling apart around here in one way or the other. it seems like i can’t turn my attention elsewhere for one second or chaos takes over.

you would never know that i had received Holy Communion just minutes earlier. it doesn’t take me that long to get home. what is wrong with me you might say. or maybe you feel this way too.

spiritual dryness perhaps?

or i am in need of a good cry?

i am.

the immense responsibility of homeschooling is a heavy, heavy burden.

but burdensome and beautiful. sweet and sour. agony and ecstasy.

so many contradictions, huh?

it is something i often have a hard time putting into words without someone misunderstanding me.

after all i chose this cross didn’t i?

well, sort of.

because there really was no other alternative.

the schools here are bad. in a very bad way.

and so this is the right thing to do.


“when your soul is crushed with sorrow, know that it is crowded with God. a man or woman without suffering of some kind would be like a world without Divine Revelation. they would know only the twilight of God, but see dimly His vestiges and know Him almost not at all.”

not my words. but oh so consoling.

i am crushed. sorrowful.

and yet i am constantly, albeit very gently reminded that it is ok.

there are still rainbows and sunsets. promises and hope.

i have not thrown the towel in yet.

i am still trying to get used to being in the passenger’s seat. in more ways than one.

as of today we officially have our first young driver here too. one more reason for me to forever remain sorrowful. and crushed.

but it’s all just part of this season.

this season of raising children. big and little.

an exhausting season wherein quite often i, weakly raise my hand…

still crushed and sorrowful.

and say “here i am….”

and i wait for HIM to pick me up.


and again.


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6 thoughts on “here

  1. Regan, He will pick you up!

    I have those same feelings. So many days.
    When I’m not there, things don’t get done, like you going to bed early and waking to dishes still there!

    Oh, I get so impatient sometimes with how hard homeschooling is, but then the alternative…is just not what we want for our kids. If you have “school” kids next to homeschooled kids, you can totally tell the difference.
    We are giving them the best.
    We know them better than any teacher would ever, we love them, a teacher wouldn’t.

    I’ll pray for you, for some good days to make the bad days not seem so bad. (we all need that, don’t we?)

  2. Oh, I definitely feel that way, too. I understand all of those contradictions. It is hard. But in the suffering we also have faith, know truth, experience even an ounce of His love. And it’s beautiful. We wouldn’t have it any other way, would we? This is the Christian walk. Sending hugs and prayers across the miles … and something else in the form of snail-mail very soon!

  3. is that a just finished quilt with just finished embroidery?!? b/c i don’t know where you found the time. unless you did it instead of the dishes? i understand totally how that would work. in more ways than one. these are strange times we are living in. they bring us odd choices. hard choices. often times the right choices aren’t easy. especially when it is a choice that matters. but in the end, your kids will see what matters. and i think you’ll see those tiny sparks of light from time to time – like the sunshine streaks you captured in the quilt above – and you’ll see all that’s woven into those scraps. all of it you’ll see. and you’ll see its Love. And your children will see it, too.

  4. Dear, dear Regan…

    We’re all there with you. There is no perfect way, but His…and it will always be hard, but the hardest things are truly the most worthwhile. The work of the Cross is dirty business, and not for the faint-hearted. Fear not! He is your strength…you are His lamb. He is carrying you, taking the good/bad/ugly with Him. No matter how poor our offerings seem to us, He will take them…make them…beautiful.

    Be blessed. Be at peace. Your heart is a good heart. He knows it…

  5. Sarah Oldham on said:

    Okay, Chickie, He will always be with you. I’m so feeling this way myself. You know I’m leaving on a trip soon and I only home school my youngest (the other two are at the local high school). They’re all on fall break until the day I return (they go back the very day/night I get home). Huh. BUT, I have my home schooled one who hasn’t finished his quarter . . . yet. Monday is going to be a crazy day if he does not stick to his resolution to finish the two tests left (he’s 3/4’s done with both, but didn’t finish Friday as I had hoped/instructed). Teenie has an appointment for her pain (neck) on Monday morning and I have to get on a plane that night. I’m a wreck thinking how it’s all going to get done. THEN, I think: who cares? Home schooling is flexible. It really is! Besides, I really do think he’ll get it all done . . . and if (strong IF) not, oh well.
    Well, I’m still trying to convince myself. LOL.
    BIG hugs . . . btw, love the quilt you are working on. Very nice.

  6. Prayers for you, Regan. That’s all I have to offer … that and the fact that I understand!

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