Mundane and pain.

This morning:
I woke up to my youngest son hollering from the bathroom, "I. AM. ALL. DONE!!"
I then cleaned up cat vomit. 
Finally was able to make a cup of tea, only to realize the cream was bad (add that to the never ending grocery list). 
I have a government census worker coming in a few minutes for a survey I don't have time for.
I am leaving early for work to help a friend. 
I was supposed to make cookies to bring on this weekends trip but there is no time.
As soon as I shut the bathroom door they began hollering for me, how do they always know?

Today is the mundane-roll-your-eyes-with-a-big-sigh-just-another-day.  But these days are gifts.  I know that is true because some couples wish they had children so they could experience the mundane parts of parenthood, and some have suicidal children, and don't know if tomorrow will be the day they find just a body, and some have to watch there children who are weak with a sickness that seems so big and is life consuming, and these wish for the roll-your-eyes,-it's-just-another-mundane-kinda-day.

I know this because while I haven't been the parent I've been the daughter whose parents were shopping for tomb stones with there baby's name carved into it, and I have been the sister wondering if today would be his last.  I've been the friend who has cried over sicknesses that small hearts shouldn't have to bear.  I know what these parents wish for.

As I go through my day wondering if I really do have time to make those cookies and wondering how many times I will have to wipe little boy bums, I will say thank You for the mundane I will also beg for healing of those I know.  I will trust that God is big enough.  At the end of the day when I have no more words and the pain is too great for them and for me I will say the only thing I can, the only thing that always precede the miracle; thank You.

Thanksgiving-giving, thanks in everything-prepares the way that God might show us His fullest salvation in Christ. ~ Ann Voscamp

For Sheol cannot thank you, Death cannot praise You; those who go down to the pit cannot hope for Your faithfulness.  It is the living who give thanks to You, as I do today; a father tells his sons about Your faithfulness.

~ Isaiah 38:18-19

 

Gifts..

 

~ Mundane days.

~ Spring sunshine.

~ Chocolate brown eyes and perfect hugs.

~ A God who is big enough.

~ Laundry to be folded, soothing a bit of my heart.

~ The tumbling of the dryer and the swishing of the washer, more therapy for my soul.

~ Promises of hope.

~ Friendships.

~ Tears that do not go unnoticed and groanings that are not misunderstood.

~ Having the best of a bad situation.