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The Enemy

12/11/2013

 
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Yesterday was a hard day.  There are times in the life of any mother when life seems not to fit together quite right.  When there is too much to do, not enough gumption or time or whatever you have to do it.   When things seem to fall apart much more quickly than they come together.  When she wonders how much of that is her own fault.

I was already feeling that feeling quite keenly, when one of my sons came to me.  "Mommy,"  he said.  " You know those toenail clippers?" 

It seems that the toenail clippers took advantage of him, teasing him until he cut the cable on my brand-new circular knitting needles that I had bought to make Bruce's Christmas present.  Not that he knew it would cut... oh, no, how could he ever know that it would cut?

So his allowance will be going toward new knitting needles, so I can finish the present.  But somehow it still bothered me.


My animosity toward those clippers wanted to come out today, in that sketch.  Of course, not really the clippers.   Really, the foolishness of my son's and mine, that says that you can use things that cut in ways that are meant to cut, and nothing will get cut.  The foolishness that takes the delicate beautiful webs of life and shreds them and then acts all surprised.

But of course I cannot draw that.

Nor can I fix it.  So thankful for grace.
  Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows....




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All original images and text © 2017 by Donna M. Buchanan.
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