The foggy rhythm of our days

I’m tired and uninspired today. I’m not getting anything done. Sleep Deprivation, it’s a thing.

I read a verse and pray and still feel uninspired. AndI yet I feel inspired. Because I realize that I can glorify God just as well on a day in which my brain is foggy and I get nothing spectacular done. Even such an unspectacular thing as finishing the laundry that has been decorating the pantry for a week.

Glorifying God, living for God, can be so normal and mundane, that you miss it.

Today I don’t want to miss it.?

Instead of feeling sorry for myself and beating myself up in my little pity party about not getting anything done, I enjoy holding the baby, again, when he whines because his mother PUT HIM ON THE FLOOR. I enjoy the atmosphere the rain outside gives us inside. A slow day, an unordinary day, a tired day with dishes in the sink and laundry in the boxes. The floor is clean because I cleaned it yesterday and I gaze at it in wonder and

Mike went to pick up the boys from school. I welcome?them home with eggs and hot chocolate. My men don’t complain about cold eggs and mistakenly bought Light cheese. We enjoy the ordinary family meal. It’s not like on the cereal boxes. There is no white tablecloth, cleaned up kids. There are no rows of shining, smiling teeth.

Because my favorite tablecloth got mold when it was in the laundry basket too long, and my children’s clothes are full of egg already. The baby has thrown most of his egg on the floor and is frantically trying to grabb anybody elses.

We don’t have a brilliant conversation and we don’t read a chapter in our bible and nothing smart happens.?

But Abel prays, the prayer he always prays. The one in which he thanks Jesus that he can play so well today, and about how Judah and Izaak are his good friends. Only in dutch, we actually uses the same word as fat. And so he says ‘thank you Jesus for my fat friends Judah and Gabriel and Izaak’ and sometimes he forgets the ‘friend’ and it comes out a little different:?’thank you for my fat Gabriel’.

We aren’t angelically patient but nobody screams and everyone happily munches.

The crusts are not eaten and for this once, I let them go.

After putting them to bed, I do the dishes and clear the table and the eggs from the floor, go up with more hot chocolate and write.

Today is a normal day. I could make it into a bad day by thinking about the bad night I had, the bad night I might?have again, and all the things I did not do.?

Today I chose to revel in the slow, foggy rithm of our day. It’s soothing.?

Nothing I do will impact the world in a big way. It’s a comforting thought.
Everything I do will impact my boys’ world in a big way. Sometimes it frightens me. Today it’s an honor, the thought makes me feel brave and loving and warms me up like the hot chocolate I am drinking.?

Like Abels says, with his cowlick sticking up and egg on his shirt sleeves ‘Thank You Jesus for this day’

This post is part of a series:

Omily Brignola

Friday October 30th, 2015 at Fri Oct 30th, 2015 10:24 PM · Reply

Because I do truly believe that, I suppose 🙂 I will not start of stop a war, I won’t rule a country, I won’t stand on a stage, I won’t solve world hunger…

I do think little things can end up impacting people in a big way, can be a link in the chain that does change the world in a big way.
But my actions won’t impact the world in a big way just by themselves. And I don’t think I would want them too. The responsibility would be enormous.

Amy

Tuesday October 27th, 2015 at Tue Oct 27th, 2015 9:13 PM · Reply

Oh, I love this — and it’s perfect for today. I’m thankful to have read it before the second part of the day begins — because yes, He is *here,* and what an honor it is to be living alongside these littles and in this mentally foggy day.