Greatest Escape

This Saturday morning I wake early while everyone still sleeps, pull my clothes on in darkness and drive through the falling snow. I need a few hours to be just me. Not mother. Not wife. The love I have for my sons is indescribable. They are everything to me. What I have to give I want to give, but it still wears me. There is constant need, constant expectation. And as a wife, even one loved by her husband, there is still so much expectation. There is so much holding back and effort that goes into loving and not hurting. With your family you bite your tongue, you work to perform your tasks well, you cater to their needs, you mend, you soothe, you entertain, you give, you lead, you direct, you provide, you protect.

I just want to be Hanna. I just want to be daughter of the only person in the Universe who doesn‘t have a list of expectations and needs from me. I don’t know where I am heading but I turn my music as loud as it goes (because there are no children complaining about the song choice or the volume) and I listen:

Don’t need a thing.
My good shepherd brings me all
you are all that I need

You let me catch my breath
Even in the valley of death
You are all that I need

All I need to be complete
is your love
Your blood, it covers me

Goodness and mercy are following me
You’re all that I need
You make a home for me where pastures are green as far as I see
You’re all that I need

I end up at a coffee shop 30 miles away where I sit with my mug of strong coffee and write this. I look at the people that surround me, wonder if they have Him, the greatest escape, to run to in weariness. I am so thankful that no matter what my titles are here on earth, no matter what I give or take or do or say, no matter how my days are spent, I am first a daughter loved by God. He’s all I need.

I swallow the last drink of coffee, step outside and breath deep the scent of trees and snow. It’s time to return, a governess to her country.