On Saturday morning, my husband woke me up at a little before 7. He let me know he was going to hop in the shower, and then I could go. (The house was gloriously quiet with both girls sweetly asleep, which we still can't get over!) It has been a while since I'd done it, but we were trying to get back into our old practice of my going out on Saturday mornings while he watches the girls.
I used to love these mornings! Leisurely mornings starting at a coffee shop with my Bible and notebook, and then perhaps going to "Market", as we call our Farmer's Market in Lancaster. Depending on the amount of time my husband was able to give me that Saturday, maybe some thrift-store shopping would occur, a favorite past time of mine.
I am definitely an introvert, needing my time alone- which of course is not easy to come by in this season of life. (As we've been over on almost every blog post I've written so far!) The times when I've been able to make it happen this year have been sweet. So, I was rather excited to wake that morning.
"So when would you like me home?", I asked, in a very typical-wife moment of already having the answer in my mind which I would like him to tell me. "9:30?", he gracious replied. And then I replied, not so graciously, how I was hoping it would be more like noon! He kindly reminded me of all the things we really needed to use the day for, and how a whole morning with me gone would not work so well. I told him it was hardly worth going out for just two hours! And then he took his shower.
I complained in my heart for a while, and laid in our bed instead of making it. With half a mustard seed of faith I prayed that God would help my bad attitude. But I also let Him know how annoyed and disappointed I was!-having all week daydreamed about a morning away and alone.
Then, I heard little footprints. Emmylou's. She opened the door quietly and smiled her sleepy smile and crawled into bed with her cranky/searching-for-grace Mother. She snuggled into me carefully and quietly for a moment, then sat up and said, "Is it morning or is it night?" I told her it was morning, but it was still dark out. And curiously, she hopped out of bed and pulled back the shade. "You're right, it's still dark.", she said in such a big-girl way, and cheerfully climbed back into bed with me.
It was one of those moments I have often as a Mom. I am set on being miserable and cranky and selfish, knowing it's wrong. And I half heartedly pray about it, not really expecting anything to change. But suddenly ,the simple sweetness of one of my children brings me back to reality. Their innocence melts my heart. The answer to my half-hearted prayers for help! I can't help but smile as I think/pray: "She is so darn cute. I love being her Mom. I wouldn't have life any other way. All the little sacrifices are so worth it." You just see it so clearly for a moment. And strength and joy comes for the next task of the day.
On Saturday morning, I woke thinking that all I want to do is be alone for a few hours- and giving that up brought about such sweeter fruit. That happens so often in the Christian Life, doesn't it? Most days, we feel like we are just searching and praying and trying to get through. Then one day you are just so aware of the goodness of God, and you wonder how you could ever forget. You know you did :nothing: to deserve it. The end of the book of Ephesians comes to mind.