By the Time I Finished, I Came Out New

This morning, I read a post by Judy Douglass on going low. It's about motherhood, but it's also about choosing the "lowest place" in all things. Judy writes about what it means to "go low": you go last; you give up your plans to defer to others; you sacrifice sleep; you forfeit your own time.

I need to read it. I need it like I need air. I wake up with the little ones bouncing around me wanting to bake cookies, play dolls, read, and swing on the swing with me. But I want to be alone. I want to sleep. I want to read poetry.

They need hair brushed, sunscreen applied, laundry folded, emotions soothed. All day long.

Once, before children, I slept until noon. I strolled downtown to a coffee shop and drank a leisurely cafe mocha while reading poetry books and composing thoughtful poems of my own.

The whole day belonged to me.

Then I became a mother, and I was depressed for years and years. I wrote this in the midst of one of the hardest days, and by the time I finished it, I came out new on the other side. 

Steadfast in Motherhood

Split-pea soup on the stove;

chicken pot-pie in the refrigerator;

ingredients for morning waffles made ahead;

laundry, folded; bed, made.

I’m here, God, with candles lit

in the middle of the day.

Just me, with a steadfast heart,

like some pebble thrown out across

a pond, settled in generations of silt. 

I still believe and wait for wonder to seize me

in the midst of flour, sugar, and peas.

This morning at 8:00 I drove

to get groceries. The check-out line

was long enough for me to read every headline,

study a hundred other women’s lives,

wrapped in silk and chocolates.

I kept thinking of my soft, warm bed

where once, I slept in

for hours, then sipped cocoa, reading poems

in the middle of the day. Maybe here and there

a light-hearted phone call.

Me, pampered, but with a lost heart

wanting freedom

with only myself to please.

God, you have saved me from myself.

You recreated me in a new recipe.

I’m the pebble that shines because of the

elements that cover and consume it.

You let others dine on me and be satisfied,

and I let myself wash away with the dishwater.

You have come, in the midst of myself,

and saved me.  

                       

___________________________
Have you learned to take the lowest place? Teach me!