It’s Saturday. Whoop-Whoop, it’s Saturday! I slept in with my baby girl beside me. Woke up to her caressing my face with her tiny fingers…and then telling me my breath smelled like a stink bug.
Wait…what?! Ok, thanks.
This day has proceeded to involve french toast and spaghetti. Both of which I ate. Because my daughter didn’t.
I thought my husband was doing me a favor taking my son with him to feed cows. Until he comes back because he got too cold and proceeds to go directly to his sister and steal her play horse. Not cool. Timeout ensues for him.
Then they go upstairs to play…and end up screaming. Kicking and screaming. And I end up kicking and screaming.
Did I mention I slept in? First day I can remember in five years I slept until 8:15am and guess what that means? It means I didn’t get up at 5:30 or 6am and do my devotion. It means I missed my time in the Word with my Father this morning. And guess what that means? My day has been a mess. I am a mess. A Grace-covered mess, but a mess none-the-less.
I’m not saying every day is perfect when I have my quiet time, but there is definitely a difference.
It doesn’t mean I won’t have a crying fit in the schoolhouse or that I won’t find myself blowing my mule-lips, but it means that I will have something, some Word in my soul, to get me through the fits. Theres and mine.
No time in the Word for me, means no Word in me.
God’s Word is my soul food. And my soul needs feeding.
Instead today I fed it french toast and spaghetti.
Well, I’m sitting down now and forgoing the dirt clods from cattleman’s boots on the floor, the Mt. Everest of clothes needing washed, the ashes spilling out from the wood stove and the dried egg on the stove.
Those things can wait. My soul cannot. It needs some real nourishment today.
And I better hurry. The kids just made popcorn for lunch. And put salt AND pepper on it. A lot.
Take heart sweet sister. There is GRACE for us today. I’m clinging to it. Hope you will, too.