Morning beckons.
The to-do list already overwhelms.
I’m tempted to crawl back in the comfort of a hiding place.
This isn’t how I envisioned time. I thought I would have more of it since I walked away from my career almost two years ago to stay home.
Yet, there is more house to manage. We spend more hours here than ever before.
Meals are eaten from the work of my hands and I bend down low to scrub away the grime. Things I once to paid someone to do.
Sunrays reach my side of the bed and as I turn over a discovery has been made. My husband has long gone to work but my littlest one has found warmth here. No longer a hiding place, only comfort remains.
Contemplating once more, a song begins to echo deep within.
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
This place where the heart lives is where I come to worship.
Amidst tending and teaching, cooking and cleaning, I find my high calling here, a presentation of myself a living sacrifice, my spiritual service of worship.
The overwhelming fog has lifted and the sun shines brighter now.
I look into the eyes of my little girl. Her name means "Strong Tower" and I run into it for safety and refuge.
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
The promise of renewal has come and I find strength to face the day. Again.









