Dear Lord, thank you for cupcakes

The world is quiet and still, covered in the cool darkness that has yet to make way for a new day. The blanket of air hangs low and moist.
With a sweet trill a symphony of birds awakens the dawn.
The grass is wet with dew soaking lightly into my shoes as I turn my face up to the warm sunshine.
 Dear Lord, thank you for silence.

A raucous commotion of small voices reaches me as each running step brings me closer to home.
Panting, trying to catch my breath two of my children compete to be heard.
A few shouts of dolls verses car and something to do with a card become a distant din as I push past
them into the small space we call home.
A tug of war ensues, ending with a victor and some tears.
Crying, red eyes bring me into the present.

Dear Lord, give me patience.

The house becomes like a hive with small bodies multiplying by the minute.
More arrivals, 6 bowls of cereal, milk on the floor, school lunches and homework fly about in a flurry.
Shouts, pouting and a epic battle about wearing a jacket.
One pep talk, one stern reprimand, one angry face and one reluctantly worn jacket.
A knock on the window to warn that I can see the jacket being stuffed into a bag.
Stomping steps off to school that I hope will stop, look and listen before they meet traffic.

Dear Lord,  help her understand.

Bottles, blankets, stenches, diapers, nap times, crying, crafts and colouring.
Accidents, bath times, carpet cleaning, phone ringing and ringing, waking children.
Clenched teeth saying, no not interested, cranky crying and lack of napping.
Cold, late lunch scarfed down quickly.
Toys like a contagion, sharp on my heel.

Dear Lord, get me through this day.

Homework, fighting, absolutely no television, cleaning messes, prepping dinner.
Crash course in math, chicken burning.
No more juice or snack or belly-aching.
Laundry stacked up to the ceiling.
Getting ready for each lesson. Pack the bags, and get them ready.
Set the table, salvage dinner.

Dear Lord, give me strength.


One small head cries it's my turn.
Replacement prayer for God is great, Amen becomes
 two minutes of 2 1/2 year old gratitude for parties, and sisters and cupcakes and people and most of all especially Lord for cupcakes, a few more mumbled phrases.
Laughter bubbling. Prayer's not over. More and more about those cupcakes.
Everyone looks up with laughter in their eyes, and enthusiastic amens.

Dear Lord, you give good gifts.

The sky is awash in brilliant colours as the sun dips below the horizon.
Warm water cascades over my skin as I wash and quietly ponder.
I store the left- overs in our full fridge which reminds me of my full belly.
I can hear the absence of conflict, the quiet steady rhythm of children mouth breathing happily in front
 of the television.
There are bath times, stories, a few quiet giggles and the
Warm arms wrap around my neck and squeeze with love.
I inhale deeply that scent of freshly washed cherub.
Quiet steals over the house as I take one last look at the peaceful, sleeping, even breathing of my angels.
I am blessed with abundance. My cup runneth over.

Dear Lord, help me to remember that you have given me so much.

I sink down on the couch, soft and inviting.
The crisp evening air is wafting in through the window as a pleasant breeze.
Crickets chirp happily in the protection of my flower garden.
The quiet hum of a lawn mower nearby signals the end of another day.
 I hold a rainbow sprinkle encrusted, icing laden confection.

Dear Lord, most of all thank you for cupcakes.