Tossed and piled, dirty laundry evokes dread and irritation in me, yet freshly laundered, crisply folded, and stored laundry transfigures me from a sluggish mommy of three, who is just trying to keep it together, to an adroit homemaker who never fears that soiled garment may be lurking under the sofa.
How can fabric do that? Perplexing.
|Isaac, 14 months at nap time.|
Tucked and snuggled in bed, my preschool children can stir up great warmth and emotion in my heart; yet my over-tired, sugar-filled, cranky children can, in a flash, transform me into an impatient, hard, bad-tempered drill sergeant, who denies that extra cup of water, one more trip to the toilet, and that ever-needed snack without a crack of compassion in her voice.
How can bedtime do that? Perplexing.
Unlike laundry, children do not come with care instructions: wash with like siblings, feed lean meats, discipline when necessary, and put to sleep at [insert hour here] for ten to twelve hours.
One of these days this rookie-mother will figure out a good system, the perfect routine, a fail-safe way of being skillful in rearing her children.
In the meantime, I trust in God's sovereignty; He knew before the foundation of the world what fabric of mommy I am and what fabric of children mine are. He paired us perfectly together for His glory and for a purpose far beyond my understanding.
And, as for care instructions? God's Word says: "do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God."
Lord Jesus, in Your divine wisdom and according to Your holy purpose, You have entrusted me with three children: masterpieces, uniquely patterned fabrics made in Your image. Soften my sharp angles, and let me not prick and scar their tender hearts. Help me remember to mother on delicate cycle more often.