3:16 – My 2 year old is asleep on the couch after a meltdown
that said, “I’m too tired to function. Please make me lie down and have some
quiet time.” My 2 month old is in her bouncy seat, sucking on her hand and
hyperventilating, which she does when she gets excited or tired. I’ve got
chicken cooking on the stove to make chicken spaghetti tonight. The house is a
mess. I’m uploading pictures from the camera onto the computer and thinking
about prayer and faith and sleep and my husband’s injured knee.
4:52 – I have been pushing Claire in the swing for a while,
and now we are playing ball in the backyard. I kick the ball and we have to go
after it in a different style every time…sprint, hop, gallop, walk backwards.
Claire’s laughter is one of my favorite sounds in the world. AK is in the
bjorn, sleeping against my chest. I am thinking about how tired I am and how
blessed I am and how I need to get supper ready before too long.
5:14 – I am talking with my neighbor Leigh, who is walking
her dog. While we chat, Claire is pretending like she is driving an ice cream
truck and keeps asking me what I want from her. I don’t mind the interruptions
at all and I order a strawberry ice cream cone from her. I am thinking about
whether Leigh knows the Lord, whether Claire is going to fall out of the
playground equipment that she has claimed as her ice cream truck, and how I
want so badly to be genuine in conversations with people.
5:31 – We have to go inside because Claire is having a
tantrum. It started so small – she pulled away from me while I was trying to
tell her something – and now it has turned into me carrying my screaming 2 year
old inside, while my 2 month old is crying in the front carrier, and my
neighbor Leigh is watching from her porch. I am thinking about how I have no
idea what I am doing as a mother and I am praying for wisdom to share God’s
love and truth with Claire when I discipline her in just a minute.And I'm pretty sure I forgot to buy crushed tomatoes at the store so now I'm going to have get pretty creative with our chicken spaghetti.
9:52 – The house is quiet. Coach is upstairs reading; Claire
is asleep in her bed; and AK is asleep on the couch. I am thinking about how
the dishwasher doesn’t sound too healthy; how nice it was to have help cleaning
the kitchen tonight (and how the spaghetti actually turned out quite well after all); how I earnestly hope that AK will sleep through the night
tonight; how I am ready to try my new menu planning idea; how I desperately
need to spend some quiet time in the Word; how I am excited to go running in the morning with a friend; how thankful I am that I actually have a friend after feeling so lonely for so long; how inquisitive Claire is getting
about the Bible stories that we read to her at night; and how I should really
go to bed and get every ounce of sleep that I can.
In all of these moments, You are working. You are teaching
me and changing me and challenging me. You are growing me and breaking me and molding
me. You do not leave me in these moments. You use them. You are not absent from
or indifferent to these moments. You are very present. These moments are not “in
the meantime.” They are not meant to be wished away. They are real life and You
have a purpose in them. They are beautiful and I thank You for them.
Psalm 90:12 – “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain
a heart of wisdom.”
