For starters, the joys and sadnesses of life are hucked out so quickly that when I take a breather, I'm not sure if I'm crying for the joy or sorrow of it.
My worry warts are being removed (permanently I hope) by the sheer fact that I don't have time for it.
A new relationship in my life is challenging my notion that I can, in fact, play well with others. But then, by God's strong Word, I realize that loving sincerely is a whole lot harder than looking like I'm being nice. I'm humbled and reliant upon His great love.
My husband and I come to God with scraps of problems, the equivalent of not being able to tie our shoe laces, and marvel as God wraps up the loose ends and sends us running again.
Thoroughly tired of having a cluttered, dirty kitchen, God gently helps me to stay on a simple regimen of putting pots, pans and dishes away... with a thankful heart... and shows me the joy of waking up to a kitchen that is clean and ready for action. What's more, He's giving me the desire to make dinners again and to share foodly goodness with others, my not-so-secret joy.
I'm learning to put even the most mundane, seemingly unimportant tasks into His great hands. Laundry. Mending. Cleaning. Working out. Resting. (Help me, God, make time for each.) And I'm learning to take care of my body again (patience, dear, patience) and find some clothes that will get me through this season of life. Oh, please let it be a season, says me.
I look longingly at a sewing project I've been wanting to do for ages. I ask God for the time and peace to do it.
I learn to downscale projects or time eaters that aren't important whatsoever. I learn to be more efficient but also to rest. Both are gifts.
I'm learning to stay, to suffer long when the occasion calls for it, to be quiet when words don't come for prayer and to sink my teeth into joy when it does come because of its fleeting nature.
My attempts to blog concise, clear thoughts become muddied when my too full heart can't possibly put into words its great bounty.
I marvel as I've finally realized that my husband doesn't want a well-run house so much as a happy, well-rested wife.
And while it's tempting in this economy to neglect date nights or time away in favor of the almighty savings account, a simple night out with the husband pumps fresh blood into my veins and wind into my tired sails and reminds us that we love laughing with each other. It's an act of faith to do so and the rewards keep coming.
A quick look at the clock reminds me that I have a few hours before my dear Morgan comes home from school. I am off again. Happy and humbled and tired and thankful.
5 comments:
Oh, my dear Emily.
I have felt so many of these things you write of, and yet, could never have put them into words like you just did.
It's amazing, truly amazing, how adding another child to a family will create beautiful, challenging chaos - in our homes, in our emotions, on our bodies. ;)
SO thankful we have God to lean on - and to trust. I was reminded of that today through your words here. Thank you, dear friend.
PS. Jason and I have neglected date nights for the last several months. My veins and sails were feeling it. We've resolved to make laughing together a priority. Alone. Out on date nights. :)
I absolutely love the shoelace metaphor you used, because it is SO true. This is a beautiful post, Emily. I know it may seem "muddied" to you, but your words are at the heart of any mother. Thank you for taking the time to share this.
Loved reading this, Em. What wonderful reminders - and in your blog, I found encouragemet. THANK YOU!
Jenny
Oh how I relate to this post! It's such a challenge to come to terms with things we wish we could do and aren't able to at this busy stage. And thankfully we do have God to lean on, but how often I forget to. Thanks for the honest and beautiful post.
this is a wonderful post, sis. you truly have a gift for the written word and a heart of gold. i love you very much and i wish i could see you more often so we could cook together. :)
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