When I came back less than a minute later, I was taken aback, though not really surprised by how fast the mess had grown. Notice the little foot prints. Our gremlin in residence thought that it was amazing that he could make those as he screamed, "Snow! Snow! Snow!" And, by the time I snapped the photo, and plugged in the vacuum, the mess had spread to about ten feet.
I've never really understood the old classic TV shows when the mother is shown vacuuming in high heels and pearls. While it is a nice idealist thought, I don't think I have ever nor will ever come to a place in my life where that is actually a reality. My vacuuming experiences are more often than not covered in some foreign substance, on hands and knees, and looking decidedly disheveled. I don't get to wear pearls since my kids would think they were candy and try to eat them.
I've decided though, that this is really okay since it is real. I am blessed by an amazing family and have wonderful friends and even though I live in pain everyday with my fibromyalgia, oftentimes disheveled and covered in flour, I wouldn't trade any of it in because in my mess, I get to see God. One of my favorite verses is one I learned in Junior High; Proverbs 30:5 says, "Every word of God is tested; He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him." It reminds me that I'm not alone and I have a Heavenly Father who cares for me. That is pretty special and something that gets ignored if I pretend that everything is idealistic when it isn't.
As we enter this new phase of life with kindergarten, it helps me to remember that sometimes, mess do take the shop-vac and that's okay. God's hand prints are everywhere, especially in the messes, pointing me to Himself. Kind of like Luke's hand prints...
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