Sunday, May 09, 2010

I have found such joy...

When I read this poem today I got so teary eyed because it seemed to just leap out of my heart. Or at least out of what my heart desires. So I thought I'd share it.

I have found such joy in simple things;
A plain, clean room, a nut-brown loaf of bread
A cup of milk, a kettle as it sings,
The shelter of a roof above my head,
And in a leaf-laced square along the floor,
Where yellow sunlight glimmers through a door.
I have found such joy in things that fill
My quiet days: a curtain's blowing grace,
A potted plant upon my window sill,
A rose, fresh-cut and placed within a vase;
A table cleared, a lamp beside a chair,
And books I long have loved beside me there.
Oh, I have found such joys I wish I might
Tell every woman who goes seeking far
For some elusive, feverish delight,
That very close to home the great joys are:
The elemental things-- old as the race,
Yet never, through the ages, commonplace.

Grace Noll Crowell

I guess I just see such worth in simple joys since I have become a mama. I mean simple. A tidy room, a wholesome meal, a kind word, a gentle act, a hopeful conversation, a kiss from my tender boy's poochy lips, a little hand slipped into mine as we walk, a heartfelt apology, a giggling girl, a purposeful change, a walk around the block, birds chirping, and flowers budding, a roll down the backyard hill, lighting a candle before we eat, holding a child close when I most feel like pushing them a way....each act is an act of beauty--though not always done gracefully, mothering has helped me slow down and see the world through different eyes and I'm thankful for that. On the whole, I have found such joy and for that I thank the Lord. For His gift of children, for His gift of mothers (especially my mama, who is the most nurturing, unconditional loving, joyful mama ever), for His gift of families and of simple joys.

I am thankful to my husband as well for a pretty perfect day of sleeping late, breakfast in bed, time out with a friend, backyard fun with the family, him going grocery shopping for me, and baking bread together. What a sweet, sweet man.

Hoping your day was lovely too,

Jen





2 comments:

Jana said...

sweet.

Joel said...

You are an amazing woman, mother, wife. You have changed in ways I never thought humanly possible. You know them. The ones we talked about, the ones that "simply having kids is not going to fix." I couldn't have been more wrong. You are transformed from being sluggish to clean or cook to getting irritated with an unkempt kitchen, a place you used to not put too much concern. You don't just cook now, you create. Tirelessly. You want less out and more in, more home. You practice what you preach. You are equally transparent with your successes and triumphs as you are about your challenges and short-comings. The change?

April 11th, 2007 - Sam and Amelia

I do not recall meeting or observing a better mother. You care. You love. You discipline. You play. You enjoy. You relish. You completely are alive, your switch has never been more "On". You are simply a great and wonderful mother to our children. With 100% sincerity I mean this. I know there are days where you feel like a failure and I come home and do nothing to make you feel like a success, but you are. There are a sprinkling of days where you feel like you nailed motherhood on the head, and you have. You feel like you can probably count them, maybe on one hand. As many days as you've been a mom you've hit the mark everyday without fail. You wipe snot and poop and don't think twice about it. You handle whining and crying and fits of toddler rage. You manage 2 children at once with identical needs at the same developmental stage. You somehow find it within you to continue to be passionate about mothering and kitchening and cooking and homemaking at the end of the day when all you've done is those very things. I could go on and on (and I should tell you much more often). You deserve every accolade that a mom could get, you embody what it means to be a mom. I love you and am so happy you mother our children.