Soup simmers on the stove.
The weather is mild.
But no chilling wind either.
I hang the sheets in hopes they will dry.
A friends daughter was here so I could help her with her school work
The table is littered with tax work and book work.
There is laundry to fold.
And I want to hold tightly to these moments.
I want to slow down.
I want to sit with the here and now.
I want to count every moment holy.
I want to be content in all things.
Content with the messy table and dishes still to wash.
Not wanting something else, not longing for something that is not mine to long for.
I watch as words are spewed from one person to another.
One condemning the other for their acts of unkindness.
Yet, that very person marks themselves guilty as well.
How can you point a finger and not be guilty as well?
God spoke to this.
You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye,
and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
If we spend time condemning others where does that leave us?
Does all the finger pointing and blaming lead us anywhere?
Are the answers in who shouts the loudest or condemns the most?
How do we make this one life count.
How do we take all the days destined for us and make them worthy?
I pour another cup of coffee.
My heart longs for the answer.
The kids bicker.
There’s more to do than the hours available in the day.
I fall into bed bone weary, heart weary.
Marriages are falling a part, parents lose their children, there is not enough money to go around,
there are chores and repairs and endless lists.
And I hear God’s voice, “But it all has a purpose.”
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.
God is at work.
Despite my concern and lack of understanding;
He is doing a new thing.
He is making a way.
My sheets might not dry, the kids might not resolve their differences and my book work may remain unfinished;
But God – He’s not done yet.
He is taking this topsy turvy world and he’s holding it in his hands.
He is calming the raging storms. . . not by stopping the storm but calming our souls.
I throw my sheets in the dryer to thaw them and finish their drying.
We eat soup on a messy table.
We just push the mess to the side.
We make a way.
And when I fall into the bed; bone weary and hear the voice of God I snuggle down a little deeper.
I end my day in prayer.
Thank you God for the reminder that you are in control.
Thank you God for the smell of clean sheets.
Thank you for all the spinning thoughts that lead me back to you.
I’m going to sleep tonight because God has all this.
I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip; your Protector will not slumber
Behold, the Protector of Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
He’s got this.