I bought a magazine with beautiful pictures of beautiful gardens and beautifully decorated homes. I look around to see a home that isn't always beautiful and gardens with empty, brown spots.
It is easy for me to begin to count the ways I do not measure up, the ways our home doesn't measure up, to buy into the hype that there is a parenting style that will guarantee a connected family who enjoys one another.
I forget that once upon a time, there was a garden home that had no equal--beautiful, lush, safe, perfect. In that same once upon a time there was a Father who had no equal--perfectly different from everything else. And in that perfection, once upon a time, there were two people given to one another, created perfectly, without defect.
And they fell, those children once upon a time, fell.
Perfect homes and perfect parents do not guarantee perfect children.
- The children are bickering. . .I'll deal with it later.
- The laundry is piling up. . .there is still clean underwear.
- The house is a mess. . .I'll do it all myself and become a raging maniac in the process.
No, that perfect Father, redeems all that is fallen when we bring it to Him.
So when I am tempted to give up in weariness, give in to the frustration, sit on the couch eating sixteen cookies, I will seek His hand and I will count the ways He works.
::children playing loudly in the dirt::
::the tulip profusion in our front yard::
::finding a way to walk::
::and finding a way to enjoy it::
::plans and hopes::
::knowing the One who redeems::
::remembering how He works::
::praying for His redemption of my shortcomings::
::the friend who pointed out that He is familiar with all my ways means He is aware of my quirks::
::remembering I am dust and finding comfort in it::
::seeing grace unfold::
::a cleaned out basement::
::a sleeping through the night recovering dog::
::the way a chicken can make many meals easier::