I am a person who longs to be organized. I want to have a routine. I want to have a method to each madness that comes with daily life. I want to know exactly where I put down my keys and see exactly six pairs of shoes neatly lined by the door (instead of the spilling over basket of hundreds). The key word in all of these things is "want." Although I have tried every which way and back to bring sanity to chaos, I finally admit it ain't happening!!
The other day in our backyard the kids and I became fascinated with this tree. There were literally hundreds of birds popping out of every nook and cranny. Somehow all of these branches, twigs, and vines (or whatever you want to call them) had interwoven in the most bizarre assortment of chaos. You couldn't follow one branch for very long before it was twisted and knotted and lost in the masses. Yet, the beautiful thing was that somehow each and every one of those individual pieces were working together to form one big mighty shape of a tree.
Although I haven't backed up enough to see the complete outlying shape of my chaos, I'm pretty sure it's working it's way into looking like a family. The calendar may have us running a million different directions. The laundry and dishes may be overflowing or only partly done. The kids might have picked out totally mismatched outfits and not even had their hair brushed. BUT each morning I wake up to kisses and cuddles. Each day when the fights are dispersed, I hear laughter and conversation. Every night I hear prayers of thanksgiving and innocent nuggets of wisdom. And I stand in awe that God has seen fit to help little unorganized me weave all these strands into something indescribably blessed.
The other day in our backyard the kids and I became fascinated with this tree. There were literally hundreds of birds popping out of every nook and cranny. Somehow all of these branches, twigs, and vines (or whatever you want to call them) had interwoven in the most bizarre assortment of chaos. You couldn't follow one branch for very long before it was twisted and knotted and lost in the masses. Yet, the beautiful thing was that somehow each and every one of those individual pieces were working together to form one big mighty shape of a tree.
Although I haven't backed up enough to see the complete outlying shape of my chaos, I'm pretty sure it's working it's way into looking like a family. The calendar may have us running a million different directions. The laundry and dishes may be overflowing or only partly done. The kids might have picked out totally mismatched outfits and not even had their hair brushed. BUT each morning I wake up to kisses and cuddles. Each day when the fights are dispersed, I hear laughter and conversation. Every night I hear prayers of thanksgiving and innocent nuggets of wisdom. And I stand in awe that God has seen fit to help little unorganized me weave all these strands into something indescribably blessed.
