The kids have emptied the dishwasher in our home for years. I won't lie: I love that this is their responsibility. But due to some cabinets being out of their reach, they simply cannot put everything in its place. And with the morning starting off with GH sick and unable to go to his first day of preschool, one child needing steering in the right direction, and another needing help with an attitude change and a lesson on gratefulness mixed in, entering the kitchen to make breakfast makes my heart quicken and frustration creep in. I'm quick to raise my voice. It's easier to be critical and to pick apart instead of build up. The clock hasn't even turned 8, and I feel like I'm behind.
But isn't that just what the problem is...it's not the chaos or the clutter or the repeated lessons. It's all just temporary, and the truth is that God is always good and I am always loved. And there is grace for this moment.
So the counters get cleared. The breakfast gets started. And then the littlest digs in the fridge and the lock breaks and the stool is overturned, and I close my mouth because it's safer and repeat, "God is always good and I am always loved." But I don't feel it. I just want to go back to bed, want the day to go as I had planned or at least have more than a sip of coffee and a few quiet breaths. But it doesn't matter if I felt it, because it is truth and it is eternal, and if I don't purposefully set my focus, then it sets me.
So I search for goodness and force myself to give thanks even if at first it doesn't feel genuine. Because if He is always good and I am always loved, I need to see it this morning. I breathe in and out and tell myself to just do the next thing.
Then there is inspiration, a new way of teaching her that will engage her. She giggles with delight at the silliness of the sentence, and I breathe deep and give thanks.
Some days it's just breathing in and out.
God is always good and you are always loved.