adding the dishes to an ever growing pile i free up a burner to put on tea. staring at the tufts of dog hair collecting in the corners of the floor, i wonder about everything and nothing at all.
i’ve not the energy for housework today.
dragging my body into the pantry, knowing that it is important to eat, i fix myself some toast and tea and move to the window to watch the rain fall and fall and fall.
i need to dress and wake the children and get everyone going for the day.
but my spirit weighs heavy and the rain that i love keeps falling and i just long to be in this stillness forever.
my oldest went to homecoming last night. and i went out with the moms i barely knew to the movies. i’m aware in the deep places that if any of them stopped by right at this moment i would welcome them into this mess of piled up dishes and un-swept floor. this is my reality. and i’m ok with exposing it.
there is tremendous freedom in that. i rejoice in the freedom in that.
i forgot to set the timer for the bagels under the broiler (how you do it when the toaster breaks) and pull out 4 charred and smoking disks. my youngest with his tousled bed head looks at me with a grin; “you forgot to set the timer didn’t you mom?” he knows me well. i smile with him. we can laugh together with no condemnation.
there is such joy and freedom in that. i rejoice in the freedom in that.
we were late to worship and my boy spilled communion on his white pants and the floor. i took my complaints and frustrations to my team of folks setting up to receive homeless families, instead of to the One who is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of my heart. i didn’t lead well.
the day filled full while the rains subsided. the dishes now have one more day added to the pile, the floor never got swept. there were more mistakes of the absent minded type along with sins grieved over. forgiveness settled in deep and with it the beauty of the One who bore it all for me.
i rejoice in the freedom He graces.
the house is quiet and still again. heads rested on pillows, hair being tousled about while these ones who know me best lay peaceful. in spite of all the stuff and marrow of this long Sunday, my spirit no longer weighs heavy. quieted by a very real and near Shepherd, i rest.
What a lovely description of a very real, beautiful-in-the-messy Sabbath day for your family. I love the life captured in your words. It’s like I was sitting at your table, watching your life unfold. Seeing all the wonder in the ordinary-everyday things. 🙂 A long day, yes. But precious moments too!
sweet encouragement Jen, thanks!