Mess, mess, and more mess - everywhere, it seems. And me, so small compared to it and how in the world can I ever bring order back?
This is the reality I live in. I have child-blessings. They create messes, trails of messes.
I love these souls, and I could say that at times I even love the stuff....evidence of happiness and life lived large and His blessings....
But work is work and picking-up and straightening-up and wiping-down and clearing-out piles up and I sigh far too loudly at times with so much to do.
It becomes very easy to complain.
Sticky counters, muddy shoes, and leaves-dragged-in-and-across-all-of-the-floors. The patience wears a bit thin. It wasn't always so.
When my children were very young, we created lots and lots of messes. I remember so very many times baking cookies (flour everywhere!), and doing art (markers and paint everywhere!), and mixing up play-dough (play dough everywhere!), and combining cornstarch-and-water to create "oobleck" (yes, and even THAT everywhere!). And I had lots and lots to clean. But it was not a chore.
Why is it a chore now?
Perhaps because I'm not invited to create the mess with them?
Oh yes, eyes open and I don't like what I see in that mirror of self-knowledge. Must I get rewarded for service?
This life, this journey, just continues to teach me....
I think on this for days, even. How the act of service is really just a concrete demonstration of love. And if I complain or need to be thanked? Is that, then, truly love?
Could I serve without complaint, even in the heart? Could I see the service as prayer itself, as love whispered to Him? See the laundry gathered and washed, without complaint, as prayer?
Prayer - praise to the Most High - expressed as service to His children?
There will still be legos to pick up. There will still be muddy boots and dirty laundry and all sorts of assorted things for me to pick up tomorrow.
But today, I'll stop complaining that the hours of service-in-homemaking are taking me away from prayer, and start seeing the serving as prayer itself.
(gently re-edited from the archives)