The past year has been pretty difficult for my family. Death, pay cuts, sadness galore. It's been a year of immense changes. One child has graduated. I have gotten a job. Just these two things alone throw off the carefully created balance of our home. It's hard.
Tonight, after an eleven hour day, I came home to a very messy house. Dishes everywhere, laundry literally thrown into a giant box. Such utter defeat coursed through my body that I couldn't even find the energy for a good cry. It's like that nightmare where you're being chased and you run as hard as you can, but you can't move. Added to the defeat was a nagging sense of guilt.
I verbalized this to Chris in the form of a question. "Why do I feel so guilty asking the children to pitch in above and beyond their list of chores?"
Before he could answer, a voice piped up from the other room. Gracie answered for them, "Probably because we give you heck about it and we shouldn't." Then both my girls appeared and cleaned. They cleaned along side me until my kitchen was clean, the dishwasher running. They sorted the laundry, cleaned off the table. It was one of the most tangible and life-giving examples of grace that I've experienced in a long time.
Even knowing the beauty of the Gospel as well as I do, I still attempt to find worth in my ability to "keep it all together". I still feel like a failure when I can't maintain my standard. I still, over and over, forget that my value, my worth, my identity, is not, NOT, in what I do (or don't do), but in who I am. I am a beloved, valued, adored child of the Most High.
Even when there are 2 day old, soggy pancakes in my sink.