An Interrupted Calm

It's a relaxing day alhamdulilah. My kids are playing independently and the deliciously cool wind is blowing softly. I can feel the long day's stresses and fatigue slowly leave my body as I sink into one of the chairs at the club, crossing my legs. And as I sit there, in this comfortable chair, typing away at my phone's keyboard, I think of happy thoughts. Thoughts of playing Overcooked late at night while the kids are asleep. Thoughts of having intense conversations with my husband. Thoughts of what a beautiful day it is and how lovely it is to just be without having to do anything.

Suddenly I am reminded gently that I have to read the evening adkar as I see my kids doing semi-dangerous antics on the swings. With the recent fall of a friend's daughter I feel extra cautious when I see my kids doing things they shouldn't. 

And of course my peace is unfortunately short-lived with my kids calling out mama, mama. As I get up to go attend to them, (with mild irritation I admit), my tongue starts reciting the evening adkar, slowly and deliberately. And I can feel the peace wash over me as I stride towards my munchkins. I can also feel the warmth of the sun burn through the clothes on my back as I reach my children and finish reciting the adkar. 

Mama, mama they squeal in their high pitched voices, as I bend down in front of them to blow the protection from the adkar onto their small smiling faces. 

And as I stand there, my hands gently brushing the hair from their faces, my irritation having disappeared, as I drink in the scene in front of me. The scene of my kids standing in front of me - seeking me out, safe and healthy by the will of Allah. I am reminded what a blessing it is to be needed and wanted by the small people in your life.