I imagine “VICTORY!”
a runner worn by the effort, yet doggedly crossing
the finish line, the ribbon breaking and
arms waving in triumph, confetti
and cheers littering the air.

It’s not so easy to see “VICTORY!”
when the same bills come month after month
and the same dishes fill the sink day after day,
when kids and dogs and husbands don’t listen,
and neither does God.

Maybe it’s just: victory
when the same bill comes in and we can pay it
(or it’s even getting smaller),
when the dishes remind of family and enough food
(or little hands offer to help when never before).
Or when the dog heels, instead of lunging,
when my husband tucks little ones into bed for the 100th time in a row
(and then listens patiently to my day).
Or when God is quiet, which forces me to be.

Note: This poem is part of my Lenten discipline, in which I attempt to cultivate space and quiet in order to hear from God and respond with poetry.

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