This is my view at midnight:
I am on call this freezing cold snowy weekend for the local ER, which I haven’t done since a month ago.
Naturally this snowy night would be my turn.
I came in grudgingly because my body is so worn out, but also honestly-gratefully because I am slowly paying down those Cancer bills. This is such a relief to me, so I try not to complain and just go work hard like everyone else has to do.
I finish at 330am, and I am tired and cold, and know I will not get much rest with the kids in only a few hours.
I go home slowly on the slick roads, and creep quietly into the house.
There is peace here, where my husband lays and my children sleep.
It is home, and I am glad for any moment here.
I say my prayers again when I crawl into bed, as I ponder job possibilities for me and Nathan. There are two offers I have, but I am reluctant to change my life. Nathan has a “bite” on a possible Broadway production in New York, which would be amazing, but so many producers have said that before so we never know for sure. But these are my work-prayers as I crawl into bed.
Mostly what matters are these babies, and how we would do anything to care for them well, and so often wonder what that means.
Right now it means me sleeping while I can before the pager goes off again, especially since I will be way nicer with a little sleep.
Except first I shovel the driveway and sidewalk to the van, and salt the path, so it will be safe and ready for those children if we do still have church in the morning.
Maybe that’s my act of faith, even if it’s 4am.
Good night, town.