I quickly hop up as Brad calls to say he's between meetings and is coming home to grab some lunch. I've spent all morning working. Switching back and forth from computer to crafts. The time has gotten away from me.
As I walk through the house I notice it. Legos spilled on the living room floor. A buffet that needs dusting. The dining room that is rarely used for dining, yarn and needles and scissors and laundry and a vacuum that hasn't been used nearly enough.
I look closer at the dining table: One end is covered in the kids' bookmark-craft materials. Pieces of yarn are sprinkled on the floor. The other end of the table is covered in my almost-finished projects. All being prepared in efforts to raise support for our trip.
I keep moving to the kitchen. As I prepare a quick lunch for Brad I think, "Soon, it will be over and we'll return to normal...as if it's ever normal."
Soon. Four months from now the fundraising will be over. The preparations will be nearly done. We'll be packing our bags to fly over the ocean to this country that has a hold on my heart. Uganda.
I take another look at the mess. I find myself smiling and thankful for the purpose and vision that God's given our family. Little fingers, hard at work, participating in His plan to care for orphans. To care for the poorest of the poor.
Is it possible to be thankful for a mess?
We are running these days....sometimes I feel I'm continually 3 steps behind. Our days can be more frustrating and hurried than I'd like.
I realize that I forgot to move the wet clothes to the dryer. The fridge really needs to be cleaned out.
How to prioritize these days? I need 2 more of me to get everything done. Or 3 or 4. Imagine all the things my clones and I could accomplish!
But there's only one. Only one of me. Only one today. Only one of this moment. Will I let Him be in it? Will I breathe and let Him dictate my schedule, my plans, my thoughts?
Later that night, I am scrubbing dishes. It's after carpool and the gym and cheer leading and homework and dinner and reading. It's dark out and I'm craving my bed. The house is dark as Brad is tucking the last sweet whispers into bed. And the familiar, calming, always present Voice, "I see. I know. I'm pleased. I see you."
Tears in my eyes, I am comforted. And encouraged.
I may feel as if I'm always behind, always rushing, always grasping for some kind of order in this chaotic, crazy, fun life we live.
But He is keeping score in an eternal way. And those are the points that matter.
For more information about our Uganda trip and how you can help, click
here.
