"We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.” C.S.Lewis

mmmh... So true!
I find writing almost cathartic, cleansing, and only bettered by clearing cupboards for its' ability to compose a confused mind...
But, reading about pursuing my own art, and about pursuing beauty, and seeking out grace makes me wonder what shape my art takes. What are the things that I long to do, when the boys are in school, when I have the time to put my mind/heart into them...? Could my "art" have more than one shape, be more than the one thing? I love to write... but in my mind's eye, come September, when Lucas is at nursery, I don't dream of sitting down to write. I dream of time to properly clean my house, time to read with no interruptions, time to pursue clients, and to study and maybe learn a couple more languages, maybe pursue further language/linguistic/translation studies. I dream of time to sew, and learn more about crafts. That sounds like a lot of art... Could I possibly do that? Is that really my art? or should I say are those really my arts? Or is motherhood my art? How do I pursue it? How do I embrace the beauty and find the grace in my day to day? And how to I do it before September, while we are all here, and full time school is not on?

so, how do you mend a broken heart?

I shouted "Go away" to one of my boys today. Out of frustration, anger, tiredness, whatever. He took it to heart... And it broke my heart to see him so heartbroken at my careless words. I suck at this whole thing of motherhood... It almost makes me angry to think that such precious lives as those of my two boys are under my care. Mostly, it makes me really come to my knees and ask God what the heck He was thinking of, when He trusted me with them! I apologised and asked for his forgiveness, which he did give me, bless him. I have promised I will never say that again.
And while I do wonder what God was thinking, I also must trust the the Omniscient One knows better than me, and knows me better than I know myself. And that He gives me grace for the journey, everyday, like the mana, it is there, fresh and new. So, I must not try to hoard it for the coming days, but I must look to Him everyday for His provision of grace, and love, and joy, and peace. And that, by His grace, I will truly be the mother these boys deserve, and need, and that, with His guidance, I can be an instrument in raising them to be His children, men after His own heart.
I don't know how to mend his broken heart. But I do know the One who mends mine, that is all I can offer my boys.