She slipped out unnoticed one day when I forgot to latch the door.
And so I rise each day and nurse babies and make breakfasts and shopping lists and play-doh pizzas; I kiss boo-boos and sweaty little baby curls. I wipe up spills and runny noses.
But it's mechanical and dutiful and forced. These are beautiful things-- beautiful children. My God has blessed me abundantly. So why is it such a chore?
Oh, Jesus-- soften my heart. Make me content.