The tree is gone. The decor is back in storage. The rich food is almost completely consumed. We're starting what I call "the dead stretch." There are no real holidays in the dead stretch. The liturgy is happily ordinary with only Lent to shake things up. As a person who works with kids I love the dead stretch. The routine goes by undisturbed for weeks, and the questions of why erode to bleached bones we barely remember. Like it or not, this is when we get the most done, and not just with the kids. This is a great time to try healthier habits out. The consistent schedule helps you sieve out otherwise lost minutes for prayer and study. Sometimes I think of this time of year is a taste of monastic life, one day following another, the only difference from day to day, the difference in our hearts.
As a mother of six I need times like this. I need to look back and see our footprints undisturbed. Sometimes the greatest fecundity arises from seeming sterility.
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