sometimes i am amazed at the amount of work just living takes.
i mean, this picture is to die for.
everything needs constant maintenance just to keep it in decent shape.
i suppose that's why i go through my entire day working feverishly and then get to the evening, look around and think "nothing has been accomplished".
play-a-way's are so fun. she's been loving all of a kind family.
it takes so much time to just keep things from becoming a disaster that it certainly feels like i never add or move forward. i'm just trying not to move backward.
it's like standing against a strong wind that is constantly blowing away the things you are setting up. you just keep setting them back up. over and over.
i suppose that's why motherhood often feels so defeating.
so many of the things we do get undone right away.
i love finding all of the random things avery turns into bookmarks. a scarf works great.
a whole day of living and learning and eating and building and pretending and reading and training and hugging and reminding actually builds nothing in our physical houses.
in her own little world. i love it.
there is rarely an accomplishment that lasts beyond the moment of accomplishing it.
food gets eaten
clothes get dirty
dust collects
toys get pulled out
beds get slept in
dishes pile
alphabet train
here's the amazing thing about God.
when i started this post, i was simply going to process how much work it is just to live out our day to day.
the quilt, the book on tape, the reading. treasure.
and as i pulled in these pictures from the camera and my phone i couldn't help but sense the profound truth that in this season what i am building day in and day out, though it cannot be seen in this physical world, is actually (i'm hoping and praying) accomplishing much more than a clean house.
the light bulb has officially switched on. :)
like for instance. the act of playing and pretending and getting out toys and legos and stuffed animals and then the process of getting it all cleaned up again feels like standing against the wind. the room was sort of clean, then it was really messy and then it was sort of clean again. nothing was actually accomplished.
she was reading in the car and only made it to the stairs to finish.
unless you look at it from a slightly different angle.
the process of my kids scanning the play room, imagining a game to play and figuring out what they need to use in their game, builds creative thinking skills in their ever growing minds. figuring out who is going to play what and making sure everyone agrees to what the game is, builds leadership, relational and problem solving skills. and then the process of cleaning up their mess builds discipline and habit and work ethic.
a library is a whole new beautiful world to a brand new reader.
i wish after a full play/clean up session i could see some physical sign of all of the mind and character growth that just happened. but i can't. i only see a room that started out sort of clean and ended up sort of clean. i suppose that's why the Bible tells us to fix our eyes on what is UNSEEN.
this change in perspective is so very powerful to me. all of the hugging and loving and directing toward Jesus in the midst of all 5 of our brokenness happens in this disheveled, often messy, house.
the house and it's messes, while they are very much SEEN, they are also just vessels for the UNSEEN to be accomplished.
laying on the library floor would be gross if it wasn't so adorable.
such a good reminder. today when i'm opening and closing and getting out and putting back and loading and unloading...... i know that while it looks like i am just standing against the wind, the truth is that i'm climbing mountains.
"So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever."
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
1 comment :
love this. thanks for the reminder! (and we have. and love. the alphabet train, too!)
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