The ‘loose-end’ state of my home is driving me crazy. It seems as soon as the kitchen starts to glisten, a dirty dish gets immediately tossed back in. I can never find the better half of my collection of single socks, and just when I think the house is looking good—I find my toddler eating butter or smearing mysterious goo streaks across the windowsill.
It’s a deeply unsettling place to be, but I believe it is also a sacred place. There is something so freeing about admitting weakness. There is no amount of education, encouragement, or determination that can prepare you for weakness. No one signs up to be weak. It goes against the human ideal and still my heart believes it is the most healing place to be.
Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one’s weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.
Where are you today? Is your heart full? Are your words few? Maybe your house just looks like mine: a glorious heap. Maybe your version of mothering looks less like a magazine and more like one shenanigan right after the other. Maybe you’re just tired today. When I feel worn thin, I just try to live my prayers. I make it my aim, to walk through the day with an unspoken assurance that I have everything I need. My sink is dirty. My house is dusty. I spent my entire free time yesterday making a gnome hat. I consider vacuuming a workout and I think there should always be time for dreaming. So why do we hold back? What if you just took some time today to dream, to just live the prayer. You might feel weak, but that really isn’t such a bad place to be. I think our days are meant to be a mix of grit and glory. Try to see past what is making your heart wilt and remember the beauty of the bloom.