Sometimes I forget why I do what I do because I am so busy doing it. It doesn't make any sense, but it is true for so many things, usually those things that matter most, like marriage, a fitness regime, a spiritual devotion and parenting. I submit that homeschooling belongs on that list, too. The noble, worthy endeavors are big. They span years, decades, lifetimes. If they didn't, they probably wouldn't be on the list.
I can't always see the forest for the trees--the life for the daily dedication--and I forget that one cannot exist without the other.
Picking up dirty laundry for the best-not-to-count-it(th) time, forcing myself onto the treadmill while 100 other things are calling my name, being still long enough to hear the Voice speak to my heart, and stepping on a Lego in the middle of the night again can all get old. So can teaching math facts to an infuriatingly blank face, or tensing when I hear the sigh as I assign a writing lesson, or hearing a snore half way through the history chapter.
I cry out inside. Why am I doing this? Who's having fun? Whom is this helping? How can this be a good thing? It is. Look up! Rise above the waves; set your eyes to see His! Look deeply, see the reflection of how He sees. It matters. It is good! It will last. It is noble. The rewards are far-reaching and can't be rushed.
I believe with my deepest core that the above is Truth. My efforts are for eternity. But there is something I am missing. Can it be my own attitude? No! I have to look into those holy Eyes again. If my goal is so great, and yet all I am doing is going through the motions....
It hurts to realize that what I consider to be mind numbing repetitions are actually opportunities for prayerful, humble love. I've passed it up! Got lost in it.
With these big things, I have to balance my vision. If I constantly look to the future, I miss on the glories of today. If I lose myself in the mire of the daily grind, I forget why I am doing this in the first place.
This week, I am going to submit my attitude to be changed by the only One Who can with any finality. I will pick up that dirty sock and use it as a reminder to whisper a prayer for the wearer. I will get on the treadmill, thankful that I can. I will leap into my prayer closet, ready for my daily molding. And when I step on a Lego, I will praise the Lord for the children I have, the toys we've been able to provide, the creativity to which I've been exposed and every moment I've failed until now to cherish.
When school meets with resistance, I will sing praises that it is I teaching them. I love them. I know them. I will see them through this, like I saw them through nightmares, potty training and tantrums, and I honestly wouldn't trade those honors for anything.
The daily grind is that for which I need to learn to live. It is what marks time and gives meaning to my relationships. I need to remember to let frustrations go, savor the moments and know it adds up to something far bigger than I can imagine.
This doesn't relate to you, does it?
No comments:
Post a Comment