Hello summer. We have been together for a couple of months now, and I sure do appreciate the unstructured nature that you offer.
Being in a classroom now offers me the awesome "adventure" of having the hot months to spend with my children. It also gives me the freedom to slack off on a few things:
Bedtime:10pm
(applies to children only, specifically the four year old who tends to get violent after 9pm)
Showers/bathing: every other day
(applies to children only; varies if we visited the pool)
Rise and shine: before lunch
(only applies to the nine-year-old)
Cleaning: only when my hubby starts noticing the mess.
(Which means it HAS to be bad.)
Laundry:When people start asking me to smell something to determine if it is clean.
(Then I binge wash for two days straight.)
Before I digusted you all with my summer time routine, I should have added a disclaimer that I am ordinarily a very "kept" person. No, I usually don't wash my baseboards or clean my ceiling fans, but I would rate my home management skills a B+ ordinarily.
Except in the summer time.
This week I went back to work for a few hours to set up the classroom. Realizing that in just three short weeks my life would regain some of the structure that it previously had [in May], I decided to start easing back into the old Sarah. The hygienic Sarah. The "I'm not just going to spray some cleaner and wipe up the sweet tea mess my child poured on the floor--I'm going to actually get out the mop this time" Sarah. My how I missed her.
As I happily reclaimed my kitchen, it happened. I had just mopped in the dining room and as far as my children were concerned, the wet floor might as well had a sign on it that said "Exclusion Zone." Unless you could float, the wet floor was off limits. So here's what "it" is: my sweet son (the little guy) came and yelled at me "Mama, I have a coffee cup for you to wash." So I jumped on my towel and started wading across the wet floor as if it were a canoe and I was floating the Nile river and made my way over to him, when... He dropped it.
Let me elaborate a little further. A full urn size coffee cup, probably 1/4 Splenda, 1/4 chocolate raspberry flavored International Delight creamer, and 1/2 coffee, fell two feet to the ground, soaking atleast half of the dining room floor, including two walls. Picture a coffee explosion, if you will.
Did I panic? Internally, yes. Did I yell? I wouldn't call it a yell, more a firm affirmation. I don't want to traumatize the little guy for helping me.
Then what did I do after I had finished mopping? I decided it would be fun to knock over my mop water onto the opposite side of the room. (yes, I had only intended to mop up the coffee mess, not the whole floor; I wasn't back in full 'Sarah mode' yet, obviously.) After my own mishap, my disposition changed a little. I cleaned it up but was not in a happy place.
So we retreated and headed for the pool.
This morning as I read from the Word of God, I realized that my summer time schedule had affected my routine in more ways than just maintaining my house; it had affected my personal time with God. I could fill up a list with ways that I stay plugged in to the church, the will of God, the journey I am on, the praise I have in my heart, the worship songs I sing all the live long day, the ways God reminds me that I am where I should be, but even with all that, I have to get real with Him.
Alone, While the kids are asleep. In a messy home, full of worries, but praise, too; just me and Him.
I wept this morning. Nothing can replace my time with my Father and I knew that and felt like I had cheated myself of the peace that I needed to get through the days where I was worried about things. The things that I worried about yesterday are still there today, but the difference is that I am no longer worried. Psalms 28:7 says, "The Lord is my strength and my shield. My heart trusts in him and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him."
My heart leaps for joy!
Looking back, maybe I was the four year old spilling the cup of coffee all over the floor. My intentions are always good, but sometimes I drop the ball (or cup) too.
Thank you, God; for not getting mad at me for spilling the coffee.
