How to Find Simplicity...

Jake is mowing the lawn. The girls are sitting by the edge of the garlic bed in little folding chairs. They have sticks they poke through the fencing. Once when I stopped by they were having a campfire; the next time they were in jail.

The ham is in the crockpot. The potatoes are cooking on top of the stove. Salad dressing is made. All I hear is girls' laughter and the sound of the lawnmower. My heart is very thankful. It is simple, this moment. And this is what I want to grab and save in a jar on my kitchen window sill so that I can take it out when life gets hectic and crazy.

Somewhere in my fogged over brain the thought keeps coming to me that life should be simple right? I mean, how much do we really have to do in one day? Cook a little food. Fold a little laundry. Water some plants, read some books, cuddle some kids, maybe take a walk. But where does it begin to be overwhelming? When I have too long of a to-do list? When my supper plans involve seventeen steps? When I have a cleaning schedule that must happen or my messy house drives me up a wall? When we make too many plans and are running to town or somewhere all the nights of the week?

Somehow I have to find that jar of simplicity in my life. Whether it is because I have a much simpler dinner plan or cleaning agenda. Or I tell myself that right now in this moment it isn't about if I get the dishes washed but rather if I obey the prompting of the Holy Spirit and I stop to play with the girls. Or I stop to pray for that person I know is struggling. Or I stop trying to do all the stuff and stop trying to be super mom; and I just breath in and breathe out thankfulness for God's good gifts.

I fail at this so many many times a day. I long for the ability to stay so in tune with the Spirit of God that I immediately drop my chores and care for a child or pray for a friend. But I don't generally. I get too focused on the job at hand, of the feeling that if I just get this done, and that, oh! and I forgot about that and this...and before you know it, I have worked three hours. The house looks nice but my spirit doesn't. My patience runs thin and I snap at the girls, and say "no!" too much.

I pray that God would get hold of my heart, my mind, my day and that He would transform it so that it is simple. So that it revolves around Him and His Spirit's promptings and less around ME and my agendas. I pray that He would show me what should be first on my list for the day's work and what shouldn't matter so much. And I pray that He would give me grace to accept that if it's the sweeping that's not top of the list that I would go with it. That I would sit on the couch and talk with the girls or read or play and that the dirty floors wouldn't make me want to scratch my eyes out!

So I pray, and I weep over failures and I try again. I pray some more, leave the dishes in the sink and go look at goats. Or I play jail in the garden fence. Or I talk with a friend. I let crumbs lay on the floor and girls' heads lay on my shoulders. (They told me the ants will eat the crumbs anyway.)