Hi friends! I am sorry words have been scarce around these parts for the past couple of weeks. I am sure you can understand why and you gracious folks have plenty of grace for me. The road to recovery after the birth of our precious little one has had a few speed bumps… but I am doing well and finally starting to feel pretty close to my normal self again. Except for, ya know, it being a version of myself that is getting a little less than an optimal amount of sleep.

Which I suppose isn’t too different from being awake half the night with heartburn before the little one’s arrival. Anywho.

The remarkable thing about motherhood that I always forget, that always finds me when a new little one arrives in our lives, is how likely it is that you are going to have to face fear head on in order to move forward. I wonder what sorts of things Daniel faced before he faced the lions — what was the training ground that gave him the capacity to believe and stand firm against all odds?

{Our One-Week Old (Zero Months!)}

There’s this moment when you realize how many tiny lives are depending on you and there’s the potential to freak out. Even when it’s just one. The enemy begins to whisper: This is too much for you to handle. Sure, other women have been managing more children than this for centuries… but right now, right here, with you, it’s probably not possible.

I sat in the tub the other night, remembering how, daunted by what lie ahead, I longed to just park in the moment after the Tank was born — and the Lord reminded me that the Good Water is the Water that Flows. And this time, looking up and looking forward, I asked – simple and genuine – Lord, how will I do this? How will I manage three now?

That still small voice whispered to my soul the good news: One day at a time.

And isn’t it funny that the night before this child was born, I was awake well past midnight, typing with inspiration — we have this day to live. Let’s focus on living this day.

So for now, that’s where I’m living. Today. Taking it one day at a time. Trusting that one of these days soon my body will feel able to take my boys for a walk. With our new baby girl in tow. And I’ll find the energy and strength I need to plan the menu and bake the bread. To wipe noses and read bedtime stories. To create the websites on the list. To write and encourage the way I think I was created to. To finally fill up a bucket and mop the kitchen floor.

The beauty of this reality is that I don’t have to have it all right now. Like so many other things in life, recovery is a journey. I can trust that I’ll have what I need for today, today, and tomorrow? Well, tomorrow has enough worry of its own, so let’s cross that bridge when we get there, right?

I know these words are for me; I wondered if they might be for you, too?