to turn the shirt around

Long before the sun is up,
when moonlight is still pouring through my huge front windows,
casting bits of light into the darkness of the living room,
and there are still a few embers burning,
trying to  find a source of life
among the ashes of the fireplace,
we wipe sleep from our eyes and
venture into the land of awake,
baby, three year old twins, and I

and even before the coffee has brewed
or I have changed little guy's diaper,
one twin is stripping down into underwear
and the other is searching for clothes,
dressing herself
they want to remove the reminder of sleep
as soon as they can,
and every day young ruth
appears with her shirt
on backward

and this morning,
husband took my place in this early morning ritual,
telling me to rest,
he would take care of all
and when at last i awoke,
making my way to my family
when the sun would have been shining
if not for the clouds and pouring rain,
i saw my twins,
ruth with her shirt backwards,
and heard my husband say,
"honey your shirt is on wrong,
can i help you turn it around?"

rain fell hard,
drowning the world outside,
and inside I smile,
knowing that this day,
as every day,
ruth would wear her shirt backwards,
and she responds to her daddy,
"no, I can keep it my way.
I want it backwards!"

and those very words
of the very young,
cut me deep,
my mind racing through time,
remembering His prompting to
slow down,
follow His ways,
talk to Him and
He would guide me,
would help me,
and my stubborn, independent self
brushing Him off,
speaking with my actions that my ways were fine,
I could do it myself...

and oh,
His love and His patience
as He waited for me to come around,
and I came, so often
having been battered by the outcome of
my ways,
and He,
always waiting,
always lifting me to my feet,
brushing the filth off me,
tending my wounds and then,
saying "this way,"
and leading...

I stand in the hallway and watch her,
she runs to play with her backwards shirt,
and I whisper prayers for her,
and thanks to Him for waiting for me,
and as I sit in the living room sipping coffee,
she comes in,
straight to daddy,
"my neck hurts,
can you fix me?"
 her shirt is rubbing against her,
and now she seeks him out to help,
which he does,
setting her shirt straight,
kissing her cheek,
and we watch her go play,
"thank you daddy,
i love you,"
as she goes...

I smile,
squeeze my husband's hand and
whisper to Him,
"thank you Daddy."

counting gifts...

He always waits
He always forgives
a little girl who loves her daddy
a husband who lets me sleep in
a husband and sons who have tea parties with their little ladies
music played by my children throughout the house
green, everywhere, from this long lasting rain
dessert to make and
a full house to eat it

linking with ann


  1. Oh Amy, I loved, loved loved this,and the Lord used it to speak to my heart today. Thank you my frend.

  2. What a great list! Happy Monday!


  3. Echoing Jodi, simply saying, Oh Amy! Your words so often make me catch my breath. You did it again.

  4. So beautiful! Ah... tea parties with little girls. Just love. Precious.