to crawl out from this shell which I hid under,
alone with my thoughts,
when hopes entangle us in a land of false reality,
always waiting for fulfillment to come,
not able to live in the moment,
dreaming of that which may be,
but may not be...
and my eyes have been glued to house listings
on computer screens
while beautiful children play behind me,
their sing song voices and delightful laughter
calling to me,
but my shell is hard over me
and i can't look away,
i just might find the one...
the place to call home,
away from here,
there where i want to be...
my home, and i knew if i visited i would no longer be content here...
but the kids giggle and play,
and crack my shell,
and I see their angelic faces
and remember the words which I must hold fast to,
to be content, whatever the circumstances...
even if here we remain,
or if we move to my home, the place I love,
or if God has another land for us to call home,
if the cupboard is full,
if it is empty,
when the sun shines down,
and when the sky showers us with rain...
to be content
and I may not live in my earthly paradise,
I may be away from friends and family,
but I have a husband that loves me without question,
and six beautiful faces that smile at me and make my heart swoon
like a little school girl with her first crush...
and I look out the window at the rain pouring down,
"God's in His heaven, all's right with the world." -Robert Browning