Laundry and Other Offerings

It's a cotton-candy sky. 6:15 a.m., and I'm out on our back porch. There's finally a chill in the air that had me reaching for a blanket as I walked out here with my coffee. All of this amounts to a happy feeling, and I'm grateful. Last week was a challenging one for me in the parenting arena, so these quiet moments are a gift from God to me, bringing much restoration and clarity of thought! 

Our church has been reading through the Bible this year, and this morning we finished up Esther. Last week, it was Zechariah. As I read again about those who walked a hard road for the sake of following a holy call, or made a brave choice in the midst of impossible situations, I think about the day ahead of me and feel humbled. Scripture is filled with stories of ordinary people who faithfully followed God, no matter what it looked like in their cultural or historical context - and it gives me both a fresh hope and challenge, as I look at the ordinary tasks needing my attention today: 

I need to take care of my children and my husband, and all that sentence encapsulates and entails. The weekends are usually tough on my housekeeping: the laundry has piled up over the weekend, and the countertops are sticky in places. I need to make a dessert for a family we're visiting later. Our refrigerator is emptying rapidly, and we need to meal plan and go to the grocery store. My parents are coming to visit, so the guest room will need to be refreshed and made ready. I have at least a couple hours of work I'll need to do in preparation for our at-home schooling this week, and I'll need to make sure to find time to exercise and take a shower. And then there's my reading and studying, if time allows.

I have to look up at the cotton-candy sky again, to get my bearings and still my heart. That list may sound manageable to some, and unmanageable to others - but no matter the length of the list or what it entails, I have an overwhelming sense of my need for Jesus. Before anything else, I must spend a few minutes sitting still and honestly ask Him to fill my heart and mind with His joy today. 

He is the difference between the laundry being a task, or an offering. His presence makes the difference.

I mentioned something on Instagram a few days ago, and it's continued to fill my mind since: Any of us who are on social media of any kind (including this blog!) walk a tightrope of sorts. On the one hand, we don't want to overly "tidy up" our life, only showing the parts that are pretty and particular. But on the other hand, in our sharing, we don't want to in any way leverage moments of brokenness. What I mean by that is - when sharing something real that has happened in my life or in my family's life, I must be certain that I am drawing attention to Christ's power to restore, rather than on my particular moment of repentance, or artful method of describing it. The writing down of these things is indeed a fine line, and I admire people who do this well on the tight rope that is social media. It's a constant checking and realigning (as is everything in the Christian life, honestly!) 

But I also know that the body of Christ is meant to support one another, challenge and build each other up - just as Esther buids me up, and Zechariah. As I read of their lives, I'm challenged and exhorted to look up at the sky, acknowledge my Creator, and lay all these small tasks of these small days on the altar before Him... faithfully, steadily, regardless of feelings or sense of readiness. He will provide, as He always does and always has. We are called to bring it all to Him, as an offering. 

And so begins another Monday, under a cotton-candy sky... And there is laundry to be done.