9/18/2012

Project Day Eve

When I'm standing before a mountain and there are so many different ways I can take to get to the top, I wish God would just get out His highlighter and show me the right way. The bible says that His word will be a light unto my path. It also says that no matter where I go my ears will hear a voice behind me saying "This is the way, walk in it." The silly thing is this: the mountain I speak of is the kids' bedroom.

So many things come easily for so many people but not for this abstract mind. If it looks too easy, I doubt. If it looks too hard, I shrink back. The truth is that you never know what tomorrow will bring and that goes for corners of closets and areas behind beds and giant toys. I get myself all worked up so that I can feel that familiar failure of being overwhelmed into paralysis when sitting around thinking isn't getting anything done. This girl's gotta change and Jesus is gonna make it happen!

The first idea I have is I'm not going to bite off more than I can chew. Secondly, I will happily begin discarding things that are wastes of space. Thirdly, well, I'm not sure about that yet. But I do want to discover those corners and hidden places and greet whatever living or dead treasures lie waiting there. Where do moms put all the tiny little precious things that kids love so they can be easily found again? I've got some in buckets, some in bins, and some in a craft organizer or two. I find them everywhere and they end up in various piles and collector containers all separated from each other and in no particular grouping. Pinterest is annoying me with all of it's perfect little solutions that cost more than I can spare. I need supernatural intervention. These toys are like the thoughts in my head. I must have to dump them out in order to see what's there. Either way most of it's junk.

Dust and spider webs never stop to think about how they might be making me feel. Dog hair just keeps falling off my dog and either runs from the broom or clings desperately to the carpet with invisible fingers. But there is hope when there is daycare. Tomorrow I'll drop the kids off and come home with my guns blazing. I plan to purge and I plan to conquer. I definitely don't want to see you tomorrow, internetland. Not unless I've had a satisfying five hours with a power nap thrown in. I'm going to be praying and I'm going to be taking no prisoners on this house. I plan to give the kids a new desire to be in their room with all of their toys. "Mommy, we don't want to watch a t.v. show, we wanna play in our ROOM!" By God's grace, it just may happen. Miracles do, ya know.