ON-TIME OR ON-HAPPY

     The speedometer rested below the speed limit and my relaxed husband was sporting his "not-a-care-in-the-world face".  His nonchalant demeanor greatly reminded me of my children's attitudes when they couldn't see any reason that "hurrying" was needed either.  I knew I should be thankful for his great mood but it just seemed to add to the swelling emotions I was experiencing, of being late.  And, although, the chatter in the back of our van did nothing for my sour mood, it at least reminded me that I was modeling actions for an audience of five!

     My foot tapped the passenger-side floor more anxiously than it should have . . . late again!  I growled inside and tried to chew on my tongue to keep from showing my frustration.  Being late means far more to me than it should, even though I keep chalking it up to being the "detail" person in the family.

     I refuse to spoil this day, I reminded myself, a few minutes will not make a big difference.  And as much as I knew I was right, I was bothered that I had to put out SO MUCH EFFORT to control my tongue for something so seemingly petty.  God, please help me, came the silent cry.

     This is growth for me -- one small choice at a time; while asking God to strengthen me!

     A choice not to vent the frustration that I feel inside.  A choice to smile when my shoulders hang heavy.  A choice to invite God into the mundane realities of daily life.

     Many times, we have a choice . . . we can either be ON-TIME or ON-HAPPY but we're not guaranteed both!

     I ask myself, "Am I going to treat today like the gift that it is or am I going to be the one responsible for destroying the potential happiness that's locked within these moments?"

     Some may say I'm being to hard on myself, but I don't believe I am.  I know the sound of God's still, small voice, reminding me to love at all times; not just when it suits me.   And the end of the story?  We arrived at our destination safe, (mostly) happy and the appointment we were late for . . . well, they weren't ready for us yet anyway.  One small victory, thousands more to go -- one day, one moment, at a time!

"Troubles can develop 

passionate patience in us."

Romans 5:3

The Mess of Learning

     "Oh, Mom, can I help you?"  The words came out of the mouth of my sweet daughter -- good words, bad timing.  I was about to begin one of my "secret jobs".  I don't have many secret jobs, but there are a few -- you know, the ones that you try to accomplish alone before a charming child steps into "help".   This job involved the transfer of 22lbs of flour, so the risks were steep.

     "Sure you can," I replied hesitantly, but I cringed as I spoke, because I knew what might come next . . . the mess of learning.  It seems to be the inevitable step that each child has to take to master the next level of chores and assignments, but one I dread more often than I should. 

     We put the clear, plastic flour bin on the kitchen floor and opened the bag together.  "I can do it, Mom," she said.  To which I replied, "I know, but I will just help you get started."  We opened the bag together and started to lift it in the air, but before I could get the words out to tip it slowly, flour decorated my floor!  Much of it did make the bin, but . . . much didn't. 

     Life -- all of it, whatever stage we are at -- requires the mess of learning. 

     At what point do we earn the badge of completing all lessons?  There isn't one.  If we are not overwhelmed with the "mess" of learning how to care for our first baby, then we are further down the list, with the hope to check off the lesson on the "mess" of learning how to care for our third.  Or maybe it is the "mess" of learning how to communicate with our spouse.  Or it could be the "mess" of learning how to age gracefully.  It doesn't seem to end, does it?

     This is God's design of life -- it's what keeps me humble and in need of wisdom from others, and most of all, from above!

     I looked around at the smattering of flour on the kitchen floor and thought of my own life -- the lessons I have learned have often left a detritus of mess in my path.  But just as I helped my daughter to clean up the flour, so God faithfully helps me with clean up the residue from my lessons.

     This is how our children are created to learn, and it is how I continue to learn . . . one mess at a time.

"I applied my heart to what I observed

and learned a lesson from what I saw."

Proverbs 24:32