Joy and a Job

A job seems like such a one-dimensional thing,
Something we need for the independence it brings.
I used to think that this was the only excuse
That I would willingly, of my leisure, let loose.

I now know that I am of a temperament
That needs affirmation for why I was sent.
My dear husband is happy if I simply
Sit in a chair acting eternally wimpy.

I have many friends, both in the flesh and online
Who happily spend, with me, their precious time.
So I now surely know that my great unease
Has not been because they were displeased.

I was raised with a value system that insists
That those with resources, others must assist.
Even in the positions that pay my way
If it's only for a paycheck, I rarely stay.

I hope that I can feel a sense of doing good
In our new Louisiana neighborhood.
I pray for the strength to give my full self,
And that hubby will take care of his own health.

I know about me that I don't do well when torn
Between my job and those who, to me, are born.
I hope I can hold firm when those who are not
Attempt to put me in their mothering slot.

Many of those I know who seek for a mother
Are looking to rebel against another.
They get tired of knowing that nobody will die
No matter what tricks, for attention, they try.

I plan to return to the outside work world,
A good-humored woman, not a six-year-old girl.
Through many friends I have renewed my old confidence
That the last years' battles had put on the fence.

This is a sincere and prayerful thank you
To all those who I hope, with me, grew.
I want to keep up our soulful correspondence
Even though daily blogging may no longer make sense.