Christianity · Faith · Family · motherhood

Finding the spectacular in a laundry room floor

“Mommy, Mommy, come look!” My 4 year old is grabbing my hand and dragging me downstairs. He pulls me across the basement floor and into the laundry room. I find my husband there pushing paint cans and brushes to the side. The once dingy concrete floor is now a solid, beautiful grey. The entire room looks cleaner, brighter, fresher. I throw my arms around my husband in a thank-you. “Wow, wasn’t that nice of Daddy to do that for me?” I say to my son. “Yah it sure was,” he answers with his hands in his pockets, beaming with pride as if he did the work himself. “He noticed you needed it.”

These words stay with me. The truth of them, the heart of them. It’s something deeper than just an old floor re-painted, a wife’s heart grateful.

I know what it is like to live like a control freak. I know what it is like to hold my life so tightly in my two hands that nothing can get in, or out. I know what it is like to try to make things happen, or prevent them from happening. To realize your stomach’s been in knots for days, your breath held, while you try, and fail, to be the god of your world. And I know the emotional and physical burnout that inevitably will happen.

We aren’t meant to control everything. We don’t know the right answer, the right direction, the best move, all of the time.

We weren’t designed to hold the entire world in our hands.

Thankfully, I have faith in Someone who is all-knowing, all-seeing, all-controlling. And He can hold it all. From the smallest to the biggest. From the exhausted days of raising babies to the career changes to the deaths we didn’t see coming and that came too soon.

More and more I am trying to let go of the things I’ve held on to too tightly. My life’s path, my children’s choices, the worries of what tomorrow will bring. Because I am realizing that this is not and never has been my job. And when I let go, I get a taste of freedom. When I hand it over to the One who is stronger, this is when things in me start to bloom. I’m no longer crushing what I’ve been given, I’m inviting breath, air, life.

My feet sweep a little higher. I may even start to grow those wings after all.

Can I believe that God knows what I need before I even say it? Can I believe that He works all things for my good when I put my trust in Him? Can I declare that He, my Heavenly Father, really does know all of my needs?

Each time I see those delicious butterflies flutter past, or a rainbow of light reflecting across my floor, I am reminded that I am taken care of. That a good Father promises faithfulness to me when I am faithful to Him. That a good Father has already lifted the weight of the world on His shoulders so that I don’t have to. I am reminded that I can live with my hands wide open, ready to receive, ready to give.

Because He notices. Because He knows. It might not turn out how I thought, but I will be given everything I need.

xo Andrea


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