Today was a good day. nothing much was different; in fact I’d say on paper, more went wrong today than yesterday. Lately, I’ve been trying to wake up a bit earlier than my kids just so that I’m nicer in the mornings. The idea is probably not new to most mums or to me but it’s one I hadn’t put in practice in a while. to wake up early enough for a cup of tea and a wee on my own (not at the same time and sorry if this is too graphic) and to have at least 5 minutes spent reading the word of God and praying before starting breakfast, ironing etc for the day ahead.
so generally this has been working ok until this morning when my two angels decided to wake up with me during my ‘me’ time that I was getting quite partial to.
But unlike most days when I am deprived of this time and internally ‘fizzle fazzle’ at the fact that I’m not going to, yet again, be able to pray or settle my mind for the day ahead or the million other things I begin to list that won’t be done now or as well because I’ll spend my next hour ensuring there isn’t too much porridge on the wall or in each other’s hair…
this morning I found myself surprisingly calm at the prospect of my day starting this way.
What was different I hear you ask? well yesterday evening, for the first time in a long time, I decide to give up.
decided to let go of trying to have a ‘perfect moment’ with my children, my husband and even with God. I decided to give up on trying to have a perfect home or perfect clothes or meals. gave up on ever achieving the perfect hairstyle for me or my kids and I certainly gave up on having perfectly behaved and presented children. I simply gave up. Instead I decided that I will seize each imperfect moment and appreciate within it the beauty of imperfection. I will make the most of my tiredness at the end of the evening and enjoy my snoring husband as I lay on his chest and realise he’s no longer watching this movie with me; I will smile when he wakes up 2 hours later and pretend date night was a success. I will enjoy my kids at 5:30 in the morning sharing my coffee with God. I will rejoice at the seeds being planted in this moment as they watch mummy making time to read the Bible.
I will seize the opportunity to let them hear mummy praying in tongues and groan and shed a tear before her father in heaven. when they ask ‘are you sad, mummy, you’re crying’ I will willingly share that mummy’s just taking her ‘ouchies’ to daddy in heaven.
I will stop in the middle of trying to write my book and pillow fight, for the twentieth time with my babies. I will enjoy every squeal of delight as we play and fall and laugh. and I will actually go and see when they constantly yell ‘come and see, mummy’.
I will grab hold of my babies and allow 15 minutes of Peppa Pig as I snooze through it. I will allow myself no guilt when I wake up and realise they are still holding onto me. I will wake up and strap on my apron and wash the dishes and prepare lunch. I will allow toys in the kitchen and helpers to wipe the dishes. We will do it together.
I will love it when the first batch of muffins is ruined by baby boy throwing a car in it. or a dirty sock. I’ll enjoy starting again because it’s all part of the adventure. and at the end of the day, after mealtimes, bathtimes and storytimes, I will enjoy lying on the floor with my tired angels, who are learning to pray over me. I will shed a tear when they remember to thank God for mummy and daddy for always playing with us. And when they are safely tucked up in bed I will inspect my 800 words that I managed to pen amid the glorious chaos with pride and seize with joy, my (not so) small victory.
Zechariah 4:10 (NLT)
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.”