Quit

Moving in a week (or two). Husband hasn't decided on the exact date. Packing--boxes, tape, paper, empty bookcases and walls.

Dishes piled, yes piled, in the sink. Food stuck on. Soiled panties strewn wherever daughter has an accident and strips. Recycling spills from the containers designed to hold it. Folded laundry lounges on the coffee table. Another load wrinkles in the dryer and the underwear wait in a basket.

Flash cards. Books. Toys. Create an obstacle course throughout the house.

Still in my pajamas and little one without underwear.

I want to quit! Send in my two week notice. Retire somewhere with books and time and no one to intrude. Where I can drink a cup of tea without witness to the mess awaiting me when I am finished.

Ahh, but God whispers. All this is witness to life. Sometimes messy. At times overwhelming. But look at the little girl dancing without panties--just joy.

Maybe the lows are less about low and more about my vision.

Those hard days when nothing seems to get done regardless of how I work can bring condemnation

or

those hard days when nothing seems to get done regardless of how I work can give witness to the lives that are lived here in this home.

And that is reason to celebrate!