I have learned that this season of life is one that is overflowing with Gospel-saturated moments, if I just choose to see them. Some of the smallest moments can carry the most weight, if I am willing to slow down and look.
My life with little bitty ones has become a life of little things, things that always need to be done: laundry, dishes, and the like. There are little toys perpetually strewn across the carpet, little people stubbornly clinging to my legs, little bits of food invariably scattered under the table… I live my life in 900 square feet that often feel smaller, and sometimes I forget the world is, can be, so much bigger.
But then there are those moments. When we’re sitting in the light coming in through the window and I catch a glimpse of sun reflecting off the finest strands of white gold, or the deep pools of hazel surrounding pupil, even as she’s frowning at me mid-whine, and I wonder… “How are you a person?” How are you a soul right in front of me? And right there, in the middle of a passing moment, Psalm 149:14 becomes touchable and our four walls hold more weight and eternity than I realized they could.
During the days of a clouded mind, frumpy tee shirts and nap schedules that keep us chained to the house, the ultimate challenge is to continue to abide in Christ. I can’t see Him, and I so quickly forget He is here with me. I know He is out in the mission fields, in the refugee camps, in the secret churches. But, here? In just a pile of laundry? In diaper changes? How can I find Him here?
“…our perennial spiritual and psychological task is to look at things familiar until they become unfamiliar again.” [G.K. Chesterson]
Sometimes, all it takes to turn a day of tasks into a day in which we see Jesus is a change of posture. Kneeling lower allows me to see more closely my boy’s nose-wrinkled smile or my girl’s swirly little cowlick, and wonder at this creation. Descending to the perspective of a child suddenly demands an upward gaze, where now I can see my Lord.
Though my days are filled with the seemingly mundane, my calling here at home is an unwieldy one: to grow people – to gather Gospel kindling around their hearts, and pray faithfully that God ignites it. When I choose to slow down and see even the smallest things as gifts from the Lord, I reach for more piece of tinder for their souls, and more fuel for my own. Growing these people means creating a home where daily tasks are done separately from God, but where we walk in the Truth that the only real Life is lived with Him.
“I discover that slapping a sloppy brush of thanksgiving over everything in my life leaves me deeply thankful for very few things in my life.” [Ann Voskamp]
So, I’ll thank God. I’ll stare at what He’s given long and hard until what I see isn’t simply an eyeball, or little toes, but splendorous, eternal Power of a Creator. I’ll thank God for the bodies that fill the laundry, the food that dirtied the dishes, and for the toys scattered by little hands I don’t deserve to hold. This is how we abide.
“…here, you can become a current in the river of grace that redeems the world.”