A wash cycle keeps rhythm with the clothes dryer. Pinching pennies pin damp shirts to the indoor clothes line. Water steams to a boil. Oatmeal simmers. The sun rises.
Rosy cheeked children lisp prayers, snuggle close, and offer kisses. The sun sets.
Everyday the cycle repeats and the Enemy whispers, it’s too predictable, too ordinary, and too mundane.
Shaping my children is not ordinary. It’s challenging. Being entrusted with the awesome privilege of caring for my family is not mundane. It’s an adventure. There is nothing predictable about life. It is a gift.
I can think of no higher honor from God than being trusted with His precious creation.
The cycle repeats.
As I wash the tangle of tiny clothes, I pray for my children’s future. As I pinch pennies, I thank God for giving us more than we need. As I make breakfast, I pray for those in countries going to bed with growling stomachs and thirsty mouths.
I confess and repent. God washes my sin, bathing me in the blood of His Son. Prayers are uttered, cried, sung and whispered. Snuggles are treasured. Kisses are generous.
There is nothing ordinary about this life. Thank you, God.
*From the archives