It’s been a long time, I know. But I felt like writing today. So here goes:
Waking up this morning was hard. I had stayed up way too late on my ipod reading comments on Amazon and other blogs about Ann Voskamp’s new book, deciding if I want to get it. And I think I do. Since I wanted to sleep a little later today, (I normally wake way before the rest of the fam) of course it was the day that my sweet Lovebug woke up earlier than he has in at least a month. So that meant no alone time with my Lord.
It has been a hard couple of weeks. It all began two Sundays ago when my son began vomiting after church and since then someone has been vomiting nearly every other day. Throw a two year old’s bladder infection, yeast infection (which resulted in her not urinating for at one point 16 hours), and two colds into the mix and you get a very weary Momma. Lovebug started vomiting again this Sunday afternoon, and was fine by Monday evening, and so Tuesday the Hubs was right on time… driving down the highway when it all began. I feel bad for the people driving around him. I had to clean it off our car, but it’s different when you love the person you are cleaning up after. 🙂
The kids are doing great now… they are such troopers. But when I woke up this morning I felt sorry for myself. I feel like I have been on a treadmill, nothing ever staying accomplished, clean, or even healthy for long. I have been exhausted and achy on and off for the last week and a half. I finally get all the puke laundry done, only to be swimming in it once again… Woe is me… can you hear it too?
I knew immediately that I needed to sit down and block everything else out and ask the Lord for some perspective on the day. But the time just kept being put off. One more juice, one more water, one more can I have this, can you help me with this, one more scream cause Lovebug looked at Lulu wrong, and ten more frustrated whines that things aren’t going their way. And all the while I am whining in my soul, wondering how much of what I am doing really matters and will the kids remember anything I try everyday to invest into them, because sometimes it feels like all I am a maid with a broken record for a voice.
I finally get everyone settled in for a few minutes and I sit down in our big comfy chair with a cup of coffee, figuring I have maybe five minutes. I open up my heart to the Lord with all my guilt for my attitude and complaints because am I not supposed to be a servant, am I not supposed to find joy in serving? I eventually find my way to the Psalms. “The Lord is my strength”, “The Lord is my rock” , and immediately I don’t feel alone. Yes I am tired, and yes my body is weary, but God is my strength in this day and in everyday. The strength to prepare one more meal, do one more load of laundry, the strength to be gentle when my patience is waning. And as always I realize the guilt isn’t from Him, it never is. It’s only the guilt I feel of not living up to my unreachable standards. The grace I feel, the grace I want to extend is His way. And suddenly I can breathe.
The kids find thier way from the dining room back into the living room to play with thier newly created airplane out of a box. They both have thier own seats divided by a sheet of cardboard down the middle. Lovebug is steering and Lulu is playing with a bear that sings songs. I grab another cup of coffee wondering how I drank the first so quickly, and sit down to just watch. The bear sings “I love you, I love you, morning, noon, and night. I love you, I love you, you make the world so bright.”
So Ann Voskamp’s book is about finding Him, finding Joy in the everyday ordinary.
Lovebug listening to the song, mumbles something under his breath. It takes me a minute but I realized what he said: “No, you don’t make the world so bright. Jesus does.” I smile and my heart leaps. This is exactly what I needed to hear, and from the very mouth I needed to hear it. I thank the Lord for this moment, feeling Him reassuring me that my efforts are not in vain. I find Him in this moment, this very ordinary moment of extraordinary value in my heart.
And I can’t help but wonder if I would have had this moment but for all the sickness, laundry, and fatigue. Probably not. And so I’ll count it as a gift. I’ll call it #1.
You can check out Ann’s book here.