On Tuesday, Dave left the house at 4AM to catch a plane to Chicago, leaving me alone with our two boys for the first time. Hours later, I picked up the keys to our new house. Anxiety had been creeping in for days. Solo-parenting is daunting even without the prospect of preparing for a move.
In the last four days I have cooked, swept, and bought groceries. I have kissed boo boos, put toys away, and cleaned poop out of the carpet. I have prayed for God to sustain me.
I have been up in the night at all hours, holding and rocking and feeding our tiny son with my body. I have wiped tears and bottoms and snotty noses. I have eaten cheese and carrot sticks for lunch standing at the kitchen counter. Sustain me.
I have packed and taped boxes. I have torn up old carpet, washed curtains and pulled weeds. I have scraped, bleached, dismantled, spackled, sanded, caulked. I am tired in my bones. Sustain me.
I am weary, but I am strong. I am able.
When I remember that I can do hard things, fear gives way to confidence. What I have is not enough – not enough time, not enough sleep, not enough energy. Yet, somehow, in the end it always is enough.
I am strong. I am able.