I thought I was a flexible person. Not overwhelmed by the chaos around me.
Who was I kidding?
We’ve got all six of our kids here for a few days. With most of the grands. I’m passionate about my family–I truly enjoy my kids.
I know what happens when I make categorical statements like that. A wrench gets thrown in the works which either makes me look like a liar or a person needing to be put in a padded cell for my own protection.
With so many young children running around the house, my insightful husband decided to purchase several blow-up water toys. Slip and slides, pools, and floating things.
I didn’t know whether to commend him for his insightful purchases or wring his neck for adding more stuff that required clean-up.
Here’s where my easy-going, come-what-may attitude went out the window. The kids were running in and out of the house, soaking everything in their path. Loads of soppy towels in the laundry. Continual grocery runs to keep them fed.
I couldn’t force control into any of these scenarios. The more I tried to keep up with the mess, the less enjoyment I experienced with all my family.
For instance, our grands are passionate about their jelly beans. The little flavor bombs from Jelly Belly are a source of enjoyment that Brach’s couldn’t produce. Ryken, at three, will do just about anything for jelly beans. When he asked for more and was denied, he stuck one up his nose Because he could. And sniffed. John helped him sneeze it out after several tries of trying to dig it out. When told he couldn’t stick things in his nose anymore, he nodded agreeably, picked up the snot-covered bean and ate it.
Dirty dishes, wet, grassy towels, food left out, sticky somethings any time I put my hand somewhere.
My patience hit the wall.
My kids noticed it. Saw I wasn’t enjoying the family like I usually do.
And called me on it.
I’m not proud of that.
Getting caught up in trying to keep things in an order I thought was necessary wasn’t working. Forcing others to operate in my structure wasn’t helping anyone.
I needed to let it all go.
Jesus related the story of two sisters who were His close friends. One, named Martha, was all bothered about doing things right, serving the perfect meal, being the hostess she thought was expected. Her sister, Mary, chose to sit close to her friend, Jesus, and listen to the things He was saying.
Martha complained to Him, telling Him He needed to make her sister help.
He lovingly told her she was worried about too many things. That her sister had actually chosen the better way to spend her time at that moment.
I know to enjoy those who are with me now is the greater good. Worrying about what I can’t change only drags on my heart and soul.
If I don’t keep Jesus as my focus, my mind sees the junk more quickly than the good.
That’s a chaos I don’t want to live in.