Today I wish I had eight arms, five ears, seven eyes, six feet and two mouths. The baby is exerting her will and her voice today. The three-year-old is whining. My house is chaos. But here I am, sitting at my computer for some “me” time. I’m starting to feel a bit guilty about making any time for “me” during the day. And yet, if I don’t, I feel so burnt out. How do you balance raising a young family, or working, or whatever, and making sure you stay on top of things?
No matter how much I wish for more though, God purposefully only gave me two arms, two legs, two ears, two eyes and one mouth. God, let me be enough for what you’ve given me. Help me to use my time wisely. When the three-year-old is screaming at me to look at something while I’m trying to back out of the driveway, and the eleven month old is crying because she dropped her toy, and the cell phone starts ringing, and I realize that I didn’t take out the trash (again), and oh yeah, I forgot to email so-and so . . . God, you. are. enough. Let me be the grown up here. Let me be more than the grown up here. Let me die to self and pluck a feather for my nest as Ann Voskamp would say. Let me hear more than needs and cries and demands for attention, let me hear voices calling for cups of water. Let my mouth hold back the aggravation, the sighs, and demands for my own sanity. Let me speak gently, calling forth the fledgling souls sprouting inside their own cultivating demands. Let my own demands for quiet, peace, solitude, time, order and success be stilled in hush of your voice saying,
“Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.”
“He gives strength to the weary.”
“And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will
certainly not lose their reward.”
Christ, come, bring life to my limits.