Never ending..........

Sometimes it is daunting looking at a blank screen, so many thoughts and nothing to say.  Tired eyes that will soon be closing and taking their long awaited rest.  The weekend has been long and good.  Up at 6 am the last few days to cook for the masses, the teenage masses.  Handsome husband is up north with the kids, I have this evening to myself.  Could be doing anything right now, could be dancing, could be at a show, out to a meal, running around with the ladies.  So many possibilities, freedom, and yet I freely choose to gaze on photos of my children.  What is this thing called love that burns inside of me?  I am consumed with unashamed emotion at the thought of my family, the sweetness of their smiles, the light of their eyes.  Anything is possible tonight and here I sit.  Anything.  I want nothing more then what I have been allotted.  Just the freedom of possibility is enough to brighten the soul.  I feel no need to escape, to get away.  Why would I leave the people who give me the most joy behind when I adventure?  I want to share my joy with them.  There is something dangerous in the mindset of escapism.  Never content, always longing.  Teach me contentment and satisfaction in the meaningless, the mundane, the draining.  To glimpse the beauty instead of seeking out the ashes.  Fill my mind with good things, meaningful things.  So tired of distraction, the binge and purge of media, of news feeds, of articles about this and that.  Junk food to the soul.  The more I take in, the greater the hunger, the greater the discontentment.  Article after article of rubbish, stuffing our souls with free bread, and so turning down the meat.  Ingestion.  Indigestion of the soul.  Gluttons and starving, obese and malnourished.  The over-informed generation with nothing new to say.  And so the discontentment grows.  It is the nothing of our land.  Is there yet a grain of sand remaining on which we may wish upon?  I wish upon my children, my husband, my faith, my loved ones.  These are my grains of sand on which my wishes and my dreams rest.  And though to some it may seem as futility to hope in such small things, they have been given a new name, they are the beloved.  What is this thing called love that burns so deeply inside of me?  Grasping it is beyond me, but enjoying it is not.