They squabble and I squirm because I just don't have the words. What do you say to siblings bent on destruction?
Hearts need to change and mine is first in line.
My words are not what they want to hear and the feeling is mutual, but we just can't stop. We struggle to make home together and I tell her, when I find her all huddled up, that people are just difficult. That's all the wisdom I can muster.
And we are all people.
After the fuming and the glorious repentance (the angels sang, they did), I lament. Why does family life rip and tear sometimes?
Why can't we all just love each other and skip through the fields stringing daisy chains and singing songs?
Oh, to live that quiet life.
I join with Jacob and Esau's mom. With the mother of those "sons of thunder", too. And with millions, billions, of moms throughout time and geography. Because everyone, everywhere, at every time and point in history, has had to make their home with people.
And I love my peeps, so we sleep without the anger and tomorrow we start over. Thank You, Jesus.
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