I don't really like the word struggle to describe my trials... I want there to be a more hopeful word for my set of circumstances... but the truth is I struggle.
I have a faint white heart tattoo on my hand... I got it to remind myself that my hands are for loving... I got it so that I would remember to love instead of fight... I try to control the urge to raise my voice when the whining grates on my last nerve... sometimes I succeed...sometimes I fail... I struggle to remember my tattoo.
I have grand ideas of having a neat and tidy organized house... but how do you accomplish that with 3 small children and only so many hours in the day... perhaps not fill those hours with blogging eh? And yet if I didn't blog there would be no where for my voice to confess my struggles.
I struggle to find someone to listen...