There are those days when a whole box of cereal launches itself across a kitchen floor before a lucid words been spoken.
And the sound of bickering seems to overcome the deepest silent prayer of a sleep deprived mother.
The clatter of dishes spill out of the sink to migrate into and eventually conquer all known kitchen surfaces.
And somehow though coffee seems to be the only known cure to a hundred ills, a hot cup becomes startlingly illusive.
The baby smiles, a milky breathed smile.
And the light catches that scatty cereal flinging girls hair.
The one with all the answers comes quietly beside me. "I'll read them a story while you get the baby dressed."
And suddenly the gauze lifts.
The veil drops.
I see again.
The gifts that unwrap and unfold all around me. Enfold me. Unfold me. Unwrap me.
I am not the one in control of this carousel. I can't wave the wand like Mary Poppins and clear up every mess.
Make all the pieces fit. This life is a kaleidoscope. One small movement and the whole picture changes once again.
I can't outmaneuver it, contain it, hold it under my thumb.
No my place is hands free and heart full.
My place is to Love.
Through flying boxes of cereal. Through tears and tantrums. Through multiplying dishes and receding surfaces. Through every cup of stone cold coffee.
I can love.
And love will find me, and them, and bring us closer, truer, kinder, stronger.
Despite it all.
Because of it all.