serious encouragement... and challenge

I so need to add a few links to the list at right of blogs I read. Today went from mary demuth's blogs from one blogger to another, finding encouragement from some awesome women who are willing to write transparently about their lives and their struggles. What sticks with me most? Ann's reflections on how a mother duck lines her next with her own feathers. NOT ones that have just fallen out on their own, though, oh no. Not the oldest or most frayed or most convenient. No.


Here's an excerpt from www.aholyexperience.com:

"Mother ducks pick feathers from their chests to line their nests.”

I pause and the children gaze thoughtfully at a clutch of plump white, blizzard of feathers fallen down. But it’s those words that mesmerize me: “pick feathers from their chests, to line their nests.”

Eyes fixed on a duck breast puffed, mother plunging beak in deep, I question wondering self: “How else did you think nests were lined?” With leftovers. With feathers discarded, the molted, the not-so-necessary feathers. I thought mother ducks picked feathers up from what was laying about, scraps, lining nests with what simply could be mustered after the fact. But no. (Is that only the way of human mothers?) No, a mother duck plucks each feather out from the heart of her bosom, warm and soft.

She lines the nest with bits of herself.

The best of her, from the deep spots.

She cups her young in her sacrifice.

What a challenge. How often am I lining my nest with leftovers? Leftover time, leftover energy, leftover me... I don't want to be giving the most precious souls in my life LEFTOVERS. No, I want to at least WANT to give my best, my first, my softest, my warmest downy feathers.

Not the angry words that bubble up when the kids won't stop running through the apartment while I'm trying to wash the dishes.

Not the sigh of reluctance when Josiah asks to play a game when I've started reading something on my Kindle.

Not the harsh words that come so easily when Yvelle is losing it because of something small (in my eyes) hasn't gone the way she has wished... (like leaving a new coloring book at school--she was close to hysterical yesterday, so angry and upset!).

Lord help me to have wisdom and patience, grace and also strength, to love and teach and discipline in healthy and effective ways...

Here's another section that spoke to me:

What to Do When You Want to Give Up and Stay in Bed (again, from aholyexperiement.com)

Shadows of depression can ride up like a highway man in the night and and steal away all the silver linings.

I wake on a Sunday to his cantering away.

I lay in the bed a long time.

The legs, the spirit, too heavy to move. The sun’s high already, the sheets warm. I make a point of not looking at my watch or the bedside clock’s hands ticking, vainly trying to nudge me out.

Maybe I can bury myself deep under covers, a bunker, escape today and no one will notice?

I don’t bother moving today because I already know I’ll lose.

I know I can’t get the laundry caught up this week and I know I can’t make deadlines. I know the bedrooms I tidied through last night will be dumped out by nightfall, the sink I left empty last night will be piled high by noon, the floors I washed yesterday will be tracked dirty by supper.

I will definitely lose today, tomorrow, all week. I roll over, smother my face in the pillow...
I know there are some days when everything feels so overwhelming, and the thought of making one more meal, just so I can wash all those plates and cups and pans and forks and spoons yet another time, or let the kids play just so the neat and tidy room can turn into chaos after 3 minutes... doesn't it just feel easier to eat cereal and crackers and cookies and tomatoes cut in half, or just put another movie on? (not to say that there's anything wrong with breakfast for dinner, or watching Tangled sometimes...!) ;)

Lord, help! ...and thanks for the reminder that I am not alone.