7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 7 – Legacy of Love

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 7 – Legacy of Love

Day 7 – Legacy of Love

If we’re going to pass anything along to our children, let’s give them a legacy of love. All of our previous prayers help build exactly that. Our actions and words are incredibly powerful. But our prayers will transform their lives.

Let’s create a home of love—love for Jesus, for each other and for others. I want my kids to always feel comfortable walking through these doors and sprawling on the sofa, even when they’re grown. While they’re little, I want our home to be a place of loving security and fun. As they get older, I want them to know that they will always belong here, and and that their hearts will always be safe here. I want them to feel validated, heard and understood. I desperately desire to keep open communication with them through thick and thin. I want them to know, that I am always, always on their team.

You are doing an incredible job! You are making a difference, even when you feel like what you’re doing is unimportant or overlooked. I see you, momma. We’re in this thing together. And remember, you can’t pour from an empty cup, so fill your own heart too.

Jesus, 

Help us to be mommas of love. Pierce the deepest parts of our hearts so that every area is transformed by the power of Your love. Show us how to be more like You, because You are the only perfect love. May we pass a legacy of love to our children, and may they always know my love for them…and above all, YOUR love for them! Thank you for the sweet little hearts in my care. In Your name, Amen!

We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. Psalm 78:4

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. Deuteronomy 6:5-7

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 6 – Be Present

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 6 – Be Present

 

 

Day 6 – Be Present

As mommas, we are constantly pulled in different directions, with a thousand things vying for our attention—daily routine, housework, errands, social media, relationships, work, the news. None of those things are bad, but they do use our time and energy. They push aside things that we should make room for. They distract us from the things we should remain focused on. Have you heard the expression, “The days are long, but the years are short?” That’s not to say that we absolutely-totally-and-completely love every moment of every day. (I mean, have you ever experienced a Level 10 toddler meltdown at Target? Yeah, not enjoyable.) But I do desire to be fully present in their childhood. I want to be able to absorb the moments throughout our days, even if they feel mundane or ordinary. We can be tired and worn out (and even frustrated) and still be present. We can carve out quality time to spend with our kids one-on-one. We can make room for unplanned adventures to the park. We can put our phones down while they’re talking to us, or better yet, even when they’re not…and just be with them. Those plump, food covered, little faces are worth it. 

Jesus,

I pray You would help me be more present with my kids. I ask that You would reveal ways that I can show them I genuinely care, and that I truly love spending time with them. And on the hard days, instead of feeling like a failure, I ask that You help us to pull together and work through those days together. May they always know that I’m available to them, whether they’re dealing with a big problem, or simply want to talk. Please give me the wisdom to cut back the things that are stealing my time and energy, and dive more into time with You and my kids’ childhoods. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11 

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 5 – Compassion

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 5 – Compassion

Day 5 – Compassion

I think we would agree that our culture emphasizes the value of being important, gaining power, and getting ahead in life—even if that means using other people, or overlooking them entirely. I want my kids to be different. I want their hearts to be compassionate and tender. I want them to love the lonely, and show compassion to the outsider. 

When Jesus occupied our earth, he didn’t spend his time inside palaces, building a rapport with the “important” or elite. He walked dusty roads that led to dilapidated homes that sheltered marginalized people. He showed compassion to those who society wanted to forget. He also saw through lavish lifestyles and looked directly at people’s lacking hearts. He showed compassion to every single person he came into contact with—no matter what their status in life was. And that is how I pray my kids live. 

Dear Jesus,

You are a compassionate God. You enter into our brokenness and don’t shy away from our pain or difficulties. Please soften my kids’ hearts to be compassionate like Yours. May they always view people as valued and loved. When they have the opportunity to show compassion to someone, I ask that you open the eyes of their hearts to recognize it and take action—even when it’s not the easy thing to do. Mold their hearts into the shape of Yours. In Jesus’ name, Amen. 

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Colossians 3:127 

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 4 – Unwavering Faith

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 4 – Unwavering Faith

 

Day 4 – Unwavering Faith

We will do anything for our children, won’t we? Even the quietest momma has the potential to become an angry momma bear when the situation arises. When they’re babies, we childproof our homes to keep them physically safe. As they get a little older, we can try to bubblewrap them (Not literally, of course. That would be weird. Hilarious, but weird), but we know we can’t keep them from scraping their knees, or running into walls, or breaking bones. Our desire to keep them safe goes deeper than worrying about scraped and bruised knees. One day, our little ones will walk out into the world. They will go off to school, college, get their own apartment, move across the country…or even across the world. We won’t always know exactly where they’re at or be able to guard over them. If you’re like me, even the idea of them experiencing heartbreak, or trials, or pain, or devastation, rips my heart out. But the beauty of Jesus is that He will always see them, know exactly where they’re at, be in every detail of every situation in their lives…and He cares for and loves them so much that He died for them. We may wish we could absorb pain for our kids, but Jesus actually did. That doesn’t mean they’ll experience a pain-free life, but it does mean that they will have the greatest Comforter and Protector by their sides.

When trials come, when heartbreak happens, when sadness and grief enters into my children’s lives (and all of that will happen), I want them to be able to navigate through it with Jesus. I desperately desire for their faith be anchored so deeply inside of their hearts, that leaning into Jesus comes as naturally as breathing. We can’t create faith for them. We can’t make them trust Jesus. But we can do 3 things. And these things will change everything:

  • Model unwavering (not perfect) faith in our own lives
  • Teach them Scripture
  • Pray, pray, pray

Merciful God,

I know You love my kids more than my own human heart can. Jesus, pursue them. Grab a hold of their hearts and strengthen their faith. May my own faith and relationship with You be authentic and real, and pour over into the lives of my children. Holy Spirit, show me specific ways to nurture their faith and continually point their hearts to You. I ask that You cover them, go before them, and show them Your love in tangible ways. Even while they are very young, speak to them. Build their faith, Lord, so that they never let go of You. Instead of using all my energy worrying, remind me that You have secured them. Instead of viewing my kids as something to keep safe, help me to see them as arrows to be released into the world. Give me wisdom on how to parent them in this way. In Your name, Amen.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 2 – A Love for Jesus

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 2 – A Love for Jesus

Our world holds a fluid definition of love. It’s constantly shifting, changed by circumstances, and dependent on a feeling. In a world that displays a thousands examples of what love isn’t, we fiercely desire for our children to know the One who is Love. We want them to love Jesus with every fiber of their being—to hold tightly to eternal things, loosely handle temporary things, and to have the discernment to know the difference. We want their love for Jesus to be their anchor so that when the waves come, they remain steady. Even greater than our own desire for our children to know Jesus, is Jesus’ desire for our kids to know Him! His eternal love for them far exceeds our love for them! Pretty incredible, isn’t it? I can’t imagine a love for my babies that is fiercer than my own. And yet, the love of God is deeper, stronger, fuller. It stretches before creation and will extend unchanged through eternity. He is madly in love with them. He died for them. He will pursue them.

Jesus,

Help me instill a love for You inside my children’s hearts. Help me to model a passion for You. And when I mess up, help me to be an example of the power of your forgiveness and grace. May my good days and my bad days reflect Your love for them. Show me ways to nurture and encourage their relationships with You, without trying to control or perfect it. May my words and actions help build a foundation that only You can build upon. Thank you for loving my children even more than I do. In Your name, Amen.

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. Matthew 22:37-38

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 1 – Sibling Bonds

7 Prayers of a Joyfully Exhausted Momma: Day 1 – Sibling Bonds

Day 1 – Sibling Bonds

The bond between siblings is a powerful one. Oh sure, there are wrestling matches on the sofa, and arguments over whose turn it is to use the coveted blue sippy cup…and attempts to duct tape your sister to the wall to see if it actually works (or so I’ve heard.)  But beneath the healthy quarrels and natural arguments, there’s an intertwining of heartstrings—a deepness that only siblings share. Some days that intertwining may seem tight. Some days it may seem loose. Other days it may seem completely undone. But despite whether or not our kids “get along” everyday, we want that bond and connection to put down deep roots. We want our kids to grow into adults that love, respect, encourage and protect one another. We want kids that are always on the same team—Team Family.

Dear Jesus,

You are a God who ties hearts together and strengthens relationships. I pray that my children’s love for one another would continue to mature as the years go on; that they would be able to rely on, confide in and encourage one another like only a sibling can. No matter how different their personalities are, Jesus, I pray that their love and bond always draws them closer to You and to each other. Give me wisdom as a momma on how to nurture these bonds and create a tight-knit home. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:2-3

No, I’m Not Enough

No, I’m Not Enough

 

You are enough.

I’ve heard and read those words a thousand times. And they’re nice, aren’t they? This idea that I’m sufficient the way I am. But as I ran across those words the other day—you are enough— something caused my eyes to linger over them. I examined each word, confused by the prickliness I suddenly felt by the statement.

You are enough.

“But I’m not enough,” I thought to myself. “I’m not.”

Over the course of the past year, I’ve experienced an amazing truth…I am not enough. And it has been one of the most freeing, empowering, beautiful truths that the Lord has graciously revealed to me.

My motherhood is currently the most important, sacred task I’ve been given. I’ve always wanted children even when I was a child myself. When inquiring grown ups would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would always answer, “a mommy.” (Well, there was a period of time when my answer also included “a doctor” but as I got older I realized that I’d have to deal with blood and germs and death on a regular basis, and the whole “doctor” idea fizzled away.)

Now that I am a mommy, I desperately want to do this parenting thing well. And boy, do I try. I give it everything I’ve got. I muster up energy when I’m already running on fumes. I give 100 more kisses and cuddles and tuck everyone into their beds when I desperately just want to melt into my own bed. I want to teach my babies about Jesus and build their faith and love for him, even when I’m still learning all of that myself.  But even when I give it my everything, it’s still not enough. And that’s because I am not meant to be everything to everybody all the time. I can’t be. It’s not fair to me, and it’s definitely not fair to my little people. Or to anyone else for that matter.

It is only where I end and Jesus begins that true fullness, complete satisfaction, and enoughness is found.

(No, the word enoughness isn’t actually a word. And yes, I just used it…and will probably use it again.)

I have come to the edge of my own limitations—as a mom, but also as a woman. Things I’ve always avoided because I wasn’t “enough” to do them. And yet, that is exactly where God has called me to—beyond myself. (He tends to do that, doesn’t He?)

I remember a conversation I had with God last year that changed everything. I was preparing to speak at the hospital I miscarried twice at. I knew God had given me this holy opportunity. I knew I had to do it and that I needed to do it. And really, I wanted to do it. Yet, I kept explaining to God that I wasn’t enough to do it. “I’m not qualified enough to talk to these people. I’m not eloquent. I’m not an expert on the issue. And I’m definitely not super excited to bare my soul to a group of complete strangers.” And just to make sure God understood how inadequate I was, I ended my thought-conversation with God with these words: “I can’t do it. I’m not enough.” Just as clear as I had tried to make a point, I heard His response…every single word.

“You’re right, you can’t do this. You aren’t enough.”

I was a little taken aback with God’s response. I expected something a little more glitter-and-rainbowy. Maybe a supernatural energy boost or perhaps a spiritual pep talk with words like, “No, my child. You are enough. You are amazing and you can do this! Now get out there and be awesome.”

But nope. Didn’t hear that. At all.

“You’re right, you can’t do this. You aren’t enough.”

But that wasn’t the end of his statement. There were 3 more words: “But I am.”

I’m not enough, but he is.

I can’t do this, but he can.

And just like that, the paralyzing fear of not being enough melted away. The weight of my own limitations dissipated. Any hesitation to walk in obedience was replaced with a new boldness. The only things remaining were my willingness, and God’s ability.

I realized if I’m going live life according to my own limitations and boundaries, my soul will always be malnourished. I will only see a fraction of what could have been. And if I rely solely on my own abilities, resources, and circumstances, then I have no need for God.

If I want to experience fullness, abundance and enoughness in my life, I need Jesus. Because he is the only source of those things.

I’m the right mom for my kids, but I’m not enough. He is.

I want to be a great wife, but I’m not enough. He is.

I want to walk alongside other women who have lost babies and comfort them, but I’m not enough. He is.

I want to step out in obedience to God’s leading, no matter how rocky the terrain, but I’m not enough. He is.

Am I loved? Totally! Am I valued? Absolutely! Am I enough? No…

…but I know the One who is. And He is all I need. He is all you need.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

He Covers

He Covers

As I laid in bed with my daughter telling her stories before bedtime, we could hear the thunder getting louder. At first it was so faint, she was unaffected by the distant rumbles.

A few minutes later, the claps of thunder got closer and louder. She stopped for a moment and held still, realizing a storm was beginning to pass over us. “Can you get closer to me, momma?”

A couple more booms and she interrupted our story. “Momma…can you get your arms and hands and hold me?”

I moved as close as I could to her and wrapped my arms around her, holding her head close to my chest. I could feel her nervousness in the tension of her little body. I hated that she so scared, but I loved being right there with her—guarding over her, wrapped around her. We finished our story and I sang our nightly lullaby. Ever so slowly her breathing softened and her muscles relaxed.

Even after she fell asleep, I laid there for a few extra minutes absorbing the sweetness of my girl’s words—“can you get your arms and hands and hold me?” I loved that I was her security. I loved that I was the one that brought her comfort and peace. I loved it because sometimes…I just need that too.

Whether it’s been one of those days, or I’m in the thick of a really challenging life issue, there are times my heart begs God, “Can you please just get your arms and hands and hold me?” Some days I just need to feel that comfort and security wrapped around me and covering me completely.

God, can you please just get your arms and hands and hold me?

God’s Word says that he is our refuge and strength (Psalm 46:1), our rock, fortress, deliverer and shield (Psalm 18:2). The entire book of Psalms is overflowing with people’s pleas for God’s rescuing, as well as declarations of God’s faithfulness.

After I lost our first baby six years ago, I laid in an ER bed trying to process the emotional and physical brokenness that I had just endured. The chaplain walked in to talk with us. He laid a mint green shawl down the length of my body, covering me. It was crocheted by a hospital ministry and given to mommas who had just lost a baby. Over the next few weeks, I held it, I wrapped it around my, and I covered myself with it. And every time I physically covered my body with it, my heart was being covered too.

As humans, we all have this need to be covered in different ways. We need shelter to cover our families. We need clothing to cover our bodies. We need bandages to cover our wounds. Maybe you’ve even heard the expression, “I’m covering you in prayer.” We are all in need of covering.

Even now, as I pray at night, I ask God to cover my life and everyone and everything in it. Cover it with his protection, his blessing, his anointing.

When it seems like darkness is swallowing the world, He covers.

When evil threatens the security of our hearts and minds, He covers.

When anxiety attempts to steal our peace, He covers.

It doesn’t mean that the pain dissolves—but He promises to cover you with comfort. It doesn’t mean that brokenness disappears—but He promises to cover with restoration.

Our God is a God who covers. He sees and knows and covers. His love covers you and it destroys fear. His light covers you and it drives out darkness.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. Psalm 91:4

Something Bigger Is Happening

Something Bigger Is Happening

TV

I am not an avid news watcher. Hours of death, destruction and hatred—then at the end, throw in a story about a squirrel that can water ski to lighten things up. I’m sorry, but there aren’t enough water skiing rodents in the entire world to lighten the burdens of the evening news. I just can’t do it. But whether or not we actually sit down and watch a news broadcast, the many devices and social platforms we have definitely keep us plugged into worldwide happenings the instant they occur. There’s really no escaping it.

My family and I went to lunch the other day. And about 5 minutes after we sat down, our waitress asked, “Did you hear about the shooting? My sister just called me and said there’s an active shooter near the hospital.” Her next question was, “And what would you like to drink?” And in one of those weird moments where you say something you never thought you’d hear yourself say, I replied, “Oh my goodness, I haven’t heard anything about the shooting…and…umm…I’ll take a Coke…”

My husband got on his phone and sure enough, every local news station was covering the story but very few details were available. We just sat there, unsettled by the fact that there was a shooter loose in our city.

And this story isn’t isolated. My newsfeed and heart have been completely overwhelmed lately with horrendous stories of a pastor’s pregnant wife being murdered in their own home; crowds of innocent people being targeted with bombs; families being driven out of their towns, forced to leave behind everything they know. My mind can’t comprehend the pain, devastation and brokenness that other humans are experiencing at this very moment.

And sometimes, I have a really hard time with it all.

Lord, how does this happen to the innocent? To people who love you? To children? None of it makes sense.

I battle and I pray and still…I just don’t understand. I will never understand. And when all feels like chaos, I desperately cling to the truth that the only place my heart will remain secure is in Jesus. Even when I don’t understand why. Especially when I don’t understand why.

There is something bigger happening here. And I desperately long to perceive it on a deeper level.

In a heartbreaking situation where a man’s wife was brutally attacked then murdered in their own home, his reaction was one of forgiveness…and love. How can a man respond like that to something so hellish?

There’s something bigger happening here.

When bombs went off and the lives of thousands of people were forever changed in the matter of seconds, it would seem that was the end of the story. Yet numerous reports of kindness, selflessness and unity are surfacing from those unlikely moments of devastation.

There’s something bigger happening here.

People who are making their way across foreign lands—who have lost children, parents, and siblings because of the God they worship—refuse to forsake His name. They are struggling to just to stay alive, but will not reject the Savior they serve. He is all that they have. They’ve literally had everything and everyone they love taken away because of their unwavering faith. Yet, they hold steadfast in proclaiming His name.

There’s something bigger happening here.

With all of the fear that surrounds these evil attacks that have been carried out by evil itself, I know that peace—real peace—will come only from my Lord. And when the uncertainty of tomorrow is too heavy to hold, I will meditate on the One who is already there. When nothing can be trusted, I will place my trust in Him.

Because there’s something bigger happening here.

The continual existence of evil and the pain of the innocent still doesn’t make sense—but when the voices of the broken speak of things like hope and forgiveness and wholeness, it’s clear that something bigger is happening within the raw details and moments of their lives. And that bigger thing is the power of Jesus.

Blessed be the Lord!

    For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.

The Lord is my strength and my shield;

    in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;

my heart exults,

    and with my song I give thanks to him.

The Lord is the strength of his people;

    he is the saving refuge of his anointed.

Oh, save your people and bless your heritage!

    Be their shepherd and carry them forever.

Psalm 28:6-9

Serving Jesus Mac and Cheese

Macaroni

As my daughter was coloring on the living room floor, she looked up at me and asked, “Momma, tan I haf some apple juice, pwease?”

“Sure, sweet girl. I’ll go get you some.”

On my way to the kitchen, I noticed a wet diaper laying on the floor that hadn’t made it to a trash can. So I picked it up and headed towards the kitchen.

As I tossed it in the trash, I noticed the can was almost full, so I decided to grab the bathroom trash cans to empty into the kitchen trash can, so I could take it all out. You know, optimize the empty space in the bag before sealing it.

After I emptied the contents of the little cans into the big one, I tied up the bag and sat it aside. Then I noticed some kind of sticky orange substance smeared across the lower cabinet door.  Sticky and orange? What do we even own that is sticky and orange!?

What. Is. That.

I walked over to the sink to grab a rag and realized I would have to go fish for it in the murky dishwater because the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes.

Instead of simply shifting around the dishes, I decided to do the responsible thing and load them in the dishwasher. I eventually found the dishcloth at the bottom of the green swamp, along with 3 others that smelled horrible.

I grabbed them, took them to the washing machine & began sorting the clothes and towels. You know, to optimize this sour dishrag load.

I designated piles into darks, lights and towels.

Feeling accomplished, I made my way to the bedroom to start folding some clothes.

And then a few minutes later…a tiny, parched voice from the living room…”Momma? Apple juice? Pwease?”

My patient, dehydrated, little thing.

I maneuvered my way around multiple piles of laundry in the hallway. When I walked into the kitchen to finish the task I had originally set out to do, I realized I was surrounded by semi-finished tasks instead.

Garbage bag laying over here. Mystery orange goo over there. Opened dishwasher waiting to be started.

Our culture has learned to juggle more things at one time than any circus performer ever has. Chairs, chainsaws and bowling pins set aflame? That’s child’s play. How about raising children, investing in a marriage, keeping the house from collapsing, being intentional with relationships, completing projects on time, fulfilling church commitments and doing everything in between? 

Downtime is now defined as the moments I can pack the little things into. Like when I can throw a load of laundry in the wash, make a phone call, wipe down a bathroom, vacuum the house or shower.

I mark one thing off my to-do list and there are 4 more to add to it.

I find myself rushing. All the time.

It is stressful. And it is  e x h a u s t i n g .

I can try to blame the constant rushing (and being late) on having to coordinate kiddos’ routines or getting an entire family out the door…on time…with clothes on.

But really, I don’t think having children changed that aspect too dramatically for me. I’ve been jam-packing and rushing most of my life. Which almost always leads to me being late. There are only so many little things you can cram into a certain amount of time before the entire thing explodes in your face.

I’m sure you probably know the story of Mary and Martha. I’ve heard that story since I was very young.

Poor Martha. She got a bad rap. I really feel for her. You know she was just trying to get stuff done.  Dinner. Cleaning.

Jesus, the Savior of the world, was in her house for goodness sakes! I mean, if Jesus was staying in my house, I’d want everything to be perfect too! I’d go so far as to actually clean out from under the stove and fridge instead of kicking all the crumbs underneath them. Which some people do…I’ve heard.

I believe Martha was busy doing good things, things that really did need to get done that day. She was juggling all this stuff alone, working herself up. And you know she was grumbling in her mind. I sure would have been.

“Oh no, Mary. You just sit there and enjoy Jesus. I’m sure dinner will make itself. And the dishes will wash themselves too. You may not mind serving Christ mac n’ cheese on paper plates, but I do. So I’ll do all the work. Just sit there and relax, you annoying free little spirit you.”

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42

Mary sat and listened.

Martha served and was distracted.

I heard this analogy a couple years ago and it’s as true now as it was then:

Imagine a bunch of cups in front of you that represent the different areas of your life that take your time and energy. Your marriage, your children, church commitments, cleaning the house, your projects, your workplace, etc.

Having a balanced life doesn’t mean that every cup is filled up the same amount. It means that you take 2 or 3 of the most important and fill them up.

The rest of the cups may have just a little, or even nothing, in them. You may have to step away from some commitments in order to keep the most important things and people in your life filled up.

And the most important cup of all is the empty one we come to Jesus with every single day.

Martha’s cup may have been clean, but Mary’s cup was full.

What I am learning is that a clean house, an empty sink and perfectly folded clothes will not last. The house will get disorganized, the sink will fill up with dirty dishes and the loads of laundry will once again pile up no matter how much I try to keep up with them.

Sitting at the feet of Jesus is what matters. That is what lasts. If my relationship with Him isn’t my top priority, everything else will become unbalanced because they’re not in the correct order.

Whether your busy-ness comes from being a mommy, some other demanding job or just life itself, sit at the feet of Jesus before you get up to wash the dishes. He loves it when we do and promises to give us “that which will not be taken away.”