Monday, December 23, 2013

This weekend I felt worn. Tattered. Thread-bare. It seems that these days, weekends are every bit as difficult if not more so, than week days. I felt stretched thin from being needed to DO every second of the day. Between a teething infant and a toddler who refused to nap two days in a row, my time, my attention, my hands, were in high demand. There wasn't enough of me. There wasn't enough time. My hands could only hold so much- so many babies, so many books, so many activities to entertain, so many dishes, so many "I have told you a hundred times not to touch that!" and "Please listen," and "I'm going to ask you one more time and if you don't X I'm going to Y." No sooner had I found a moment to clean the wrecked house, than the children and husband (and myself, if I'm honest) had come in behind me and wrecked it again. It all felt a bit hopeless, honestly. It began to feel like I was spinning my wheels and getting nowhere.  All the work, all of the words, all of the energy was nothing. It was unnecessary and useless and striving after the wind.

But a still, quiet voice in my heart this morning reminded me that I have holy work to do. That everything I do or say with my children and my husband is holy work. Our children will learn from every single thing that is done in this house, but mostly my attitude and reactions. Was I kind and loving in response to requests for snacks and food (again)? Was I gentle in reprimand? Was I honest when asked repeated questions? Was my heart turned toward Christ when trials seemed to be overtaking me? Did I point my children and my husband toward Christ when they needed an answer that seemingly couldn't be found? Did I point them toward Christ just to give thanks for every small blessing? That is my work.

Laundry. Dishes. Dusting. Vacuuming. It all has to be done, but in joy. Out of duty and gratefulness to my God. A God who really doesn't care if it's done today or tomorrow or next week, but only that I do it with the understanding that I have these chores because I am blessed. I am blessed with a family that truly lives in our house making messes and enjoying good food and fun and laughter.

1 comment:

Farina said...

Life as a mother is really stressful and hard work, but keep strong. I'm only 15, but I'm really thankful for everything my mother did for me.
I hope you had a wonderful christmas evening. (:

merry christmas time from Germany! :)