It's easy to get lost in the sea of hats I wear.
I'm a cook.
I'm a maid.
I'm a mother.
I'm a wife.
I'm a creator of worlds.
I'm a virtual administrative assistant for a supervisor at a caregiving company.
I'm a nursery coordinator at my church, organizing volunteers, greeting new parents, caring for babies on Sundays.
I'm a friend, a sister, and a daughter, doing my best to stay connected and involved in the lives of others.
I'm pulled in many directions, accosted by multiple voices, needed, needed, needed.
All. The. Time.
"What a wonderful responsibility!" I tell myself most days. "You're so blessed!"
"How I wish someone else would take over," I think in my darkest moments. "I just want a moment's peace and rest."
"If you weren't so busy, you'd lose your mind," says the productive, Energizer bunny on one shoulder.
"You've already lost your mind," says the sleep-deprived Eeyore on my other shoulder. "You need to sleep more."
"Sleep is for the weak!"
"Sleep is for the smart and emotionally-self-aware."
It's hard to weigh in when they both make valid points.
In the end, what can I do?
After all, I made each and every choice that brought me here.
Why do I continue? What is my reward?
A little boy, wrapping his arms around my knees, saying, "I love you, Mommy!"
A little girl, giving sloppy, peanut butter scented kisses.
A baby, constantly rolling and kicking me from within.
A grateful husband.
A group of faithful friends.
A supportive family.
A small but devoted readership.
A kind supervisor.
An understanding church family.
A full life.
The promise of a future where things will be different.
Because nothing--good, bad, or otherwise--lasts forever.
Lord, give me an extra portion of grace that I might pour it out on all of those who depend on me.
And, if it isn't too much trouble, please let this third baby be a good sleeper.
Amen.