Every morning I open the front door and step out onto the porch to feel what God has for me in the day. I stand long enough to know one thing ~ Can we open the windows and crank open the Wedgwood blue door to let the sun and the wind blow the air straight through our home?
As soon as the first buds appear on our trees, and the sap is running, the annual nudging and urging of my desire for free time begins. I see projects that need tending to. I did my best to ignore most of them all winter.
The heavy blankets in the family laundry room can be moved to the attic. The flower beds can be raked over to find new life peeking under the leaves. The craft and art drawer is over-run and the white sparkly lights are still hanging in the dining room.
The chicken fence needs re-wired, secured and the coop will need to be cleaned again and again.
School papers organized, books re-shelved and reports sent into the school for next year.
The birds are waiting for us to re-fill the feeders, and the pigs are anxious to move about more freely.
Floors will need re-finished, rooms re-painted, clothing sorted and stored away. And the list continues. Tirelessly.
Everything seems to need a make-over. The clippers will come out this evening for new hair cuts, and the girls will need more spring dresses. Will I let the gray poke through my roots this year, or just succumb to the age of natural?
The eldest daughter is getting married in 75 days, and we are feverishly planning and praying her heart into another’s.
And it is madness.
Will the heavy blankets sit unpacked another season, or will it hurt for the floors to shine with the wear and tear of life that 12 people bring to their steps each and every day?
There is so much to do, and so little time to do it. When being a mom is more about being. Not doing. Letting the socks go unfolded or the school papers sit in a neat stack for another week, I begin to feel the madness of making decisions with my time.
And while the lists are looming before us, we see the ‘undone,” in every hour.
The left over lunch scraps scattered on the table, the dishes drying from the morning bacon buffet, and the laundry left to be folded until reading and piano, and school work was done.
Which project comes first? When will it ever end? This year, I am taking my recycled approach to Spring.
For spring can bring out the crazies, and the barking of orders, and to – do lists, while perhaps pulling on the strings of your pocket-book.
So, cut your list in half each day and make more of purging to the hearts and a bursting forth of spring in your step.
Let’s push past the urge to do everything at once. Holding onto the moments that will afford us the most return.
I am in a flurried frenzy over the hearts that fill this home. While I sort papers, I will be praying over the cob-webs in the corners of our hearts.
After we complete our chores, I am bandaging blisters, and seeking the hurt that I may have missed in their eyes before.
While shopping for the lanky legs that stretch out under our long wooden table, I am speaking to the thoughts of envy or desire for something more than we need.
Find a new step in your makeovers this year. Find the balance between true beauty and purpose in every project you begin. The frenzy and energy we have when we open the front door to spring can reap more than the physical rewards.
When every project is calling your name at every hour of your day. Stop. Be still and know that HE IS GOD. Make more of Him, and less of the trivial.
What is keeping you from getting to the heart of your home?