When the Silence Broke Into Singing

​One of the hardest things about this stage of motherhood is the silence. I’m not talking about silent nights and quiet evenings at home, but a silence that speaks of no results. It’s a silence that gives no immediate feedback, that doesn’t recognize your work; that folds, stirs, scrubs, drives, schedules, and juggles without praise or recognition. It is silence that gives no indication of effectiveness or accuracy. It is the silence of the unrecognized mundane.

But there is truth in the Christmas story that stirs within me the desire to embrace this hard kind of silence. 

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