The truth on the slip of paper...
Carefully I taped up the strip of paper to the window above my kitchen sink. I taped another to the mirror in the bathroom. Another to the cupboard above the washing machine and another where I folded laundry. One went on the fridge door and another on the girls' bedroom wall where I would see it when I was getting them ready for bed each night.
On the strip of paper were printed just a few word. "This is my song of praise to You..." This life that I'm living right now with all the correcting of children, washing of floors and chubby fingers, folding of laundry, brushing of teeth, scrubbing of pots and pans and countless, endless silverware; it is my song of praise to God.
When that thought first started to percolate in my brain, I thought, "Oh good thought! I will remember that, put it into practice." But I didn't. I forgot it the moment that first child screamed at another, or at the next mess I had to clean off the floor, and by the end of the day as I scrubbed the last of the countless, endless silverware, I cried into my soap bubbles because I knew that I had forgotten again. I had gone through my day heaving myself up by my bootstraps. I had spent one whole day going from spill to mess to cranky child without even inviting God to step into that messy moment with me.
Out of desperation, I printed off a whole bunch of those strips of paper and started taping them everywhere I knew I stood when my heart rebelled at my work and where I knew that the first lies of unfairness were spoken to me.
When I folded laundry and was tempted to think that my life is unfair, unnoticed, even unneeded, I would look up and see the words, "This is my song of praise to You," and I would think to myself of the blessings of my children and indoor plumbing. When I felt frustrated by the length of time it was taking the girls to get ready for bed I would think of the blessing of sleep, and how Jake and I get time alone after the girls were in bed. When I scrubbed those countless, endless forks and spoons, I would sing praises to my God Who does all things well. While I washed floors and fixed meals and read books and cuddled children and mediated conflicts, I was drawn over and over again to those strips of paper; those reminders.
Satan wants to strip the joy, the praise, and the blessing out of each of our lives, whether we are mothers or not. He wants us to focus instead on the worries, the fears, the pain, the unrealized dreams that we had hoped in. He wants us to think that we are unnoticed and uncared for.
The truth is this though. We have a way to defeat those lies that he scatters in our brain's pathways every day. God has given us the gift of praise. The ability to find the rays of sun shining into even the gloomiest thoughts in our heads. And when we reach out and thank Him for His blessings and gifts to us, Satan's lies are vanquished and we can walk in the light.
As I continued to reach out and thank God for His gifts through the reminders on the slips of paper, I found His holiness descending into my everyday life. I have never experienced such holiness as the day I scrubbed floors on my hands and knees and thanked God for His gifts at the same time. It was like worshipping in church and yet I was scrubbing dried yogurt and spaghetti sauce from the floor.
I want it to be that way all the time. The holy presence of God intersecting with my mundane every day life and making it into something beautiful.
On the strip of paper were printed just a few word. "This is my song of praise to You..." This life that I'm living right now with all the correcting of children, washing of floors and chubby fingers, folding of laundry, brushing of teeth, scrubbing of pots and pans and countless, endless silverware; it is my song of praise to God.
When that thought first started to percolate in my brain, I thought, "Oh good thought! I will remember that, put it into practice." But I didn't. I forgot it the moment that first child screamed at another, or at the next mess I had to clean off the floor, and by the end of the day as I scrubbed the last of the countless, endless silverware, I cried into my soap bubbles because I knew that I had forgotten again. I had gone through my day heaving myself up by my bootstraps. I had spent one whole day going from spill to mess to cranky child without even inviting God to step into that messy moment with me.
Out of desperation, I printed off a whole bunch of those strips of paper and started taping them everywhere I knew I stood when my heart rebelled at my work and where I knew that the first lies of unfairness were spoken to me.
When I folded laundry and was tempted to think that my life is unfair, unnoticed, even unneeded, I would look up and see the words, "This is my song of praise to You," and I would think to myself of the blessings of my children and indoor plumbing. When I felt frustrated by the length of time it was taking the girls to get ready for bed I would think of the blessing of sleep, and how Jake and I get time alone after the girls were in bed. When I scrubbed those countless, endless forks and spoons, I would sing praises to my God Who does all things well. While I washed floors and fixed meals and read books and cuddled children and mediated conflicts, I was drawn over and over again to those strips of paper; those reminders.
Satan wants to strip the joy, the praise, and the blessing out of each of our lives, whether we are mothers or not. He wants us to focus instead on the worries, the fears, the pain, the unrealized dreams that we had hoped in. He wants us to think that we are unnoticed and uncared for.
The truth is this though. We have a way to defeat those lies that he scatters in our brain's pathways every day. God has given us the gift of praise. The ability to find the rays of sun shining into even the gloomiest thoughts in our heads. And when we reach out and thank Him for His blessings and gifts to us, Satan's lies are vanquished and we can walk in the light.
As I continued to reach out and thank God for His gifts through the reminders on the slips of paper, I found His holiness descending into my everyday life. I have never experienced such holiness as the day I scrubbed floors on my hands and knees and thanked God for His gifts at the same time. It was like worshipping in church and yet I was scrubbing dried yogurt and spaghetti sauce from the floor.
I want it to be that way all the time. The holy presence of God intersecting with my mundane every day life and making it into something beautiful.
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