The last kid is in bed,
In exhaustion I hang my head.
If crying would help I would,
I feel lost, lonely, misunderstood.
Then I hear a knock at the door.
Who would be knocking now?
I don't want to answer. I'd rather hide.
My house is messy inside.
I turn on the light, flip the lock to see who's there...
and there is a couple with a box of blessing to share.
Love in their eyes, joy on each face
to be giving, loving, serving with grace.
I don't know what to say,
To be reminded at the very end of my day-
That people care, people remember,
That at least through the week, I have to play "single mom" through December.
I cry. I vent. My "thanks" sounds so small.
The hands and feet of Jesus is shown despite my thick wall.
Why try to be strong? When all along,
Jesus WILL show up in the most unsuspecting ways when we need it most!