The vibrant colors, the crisp air, and the early sunsets are all evidence that seasons are changing, and I can’t help but sense that the seasons of my life are changing as well. I’m certain that my lack of posting has been an indication of this transition, but I suppose that it’s time to fess up for myself.
Ya’ll, life is busy. I’m a working mother, and while I love the role, I have to admit that it leaves little time for the extras like blogging. For the past few weeks I have made an asserted effort to be in the moment. I have stopped reading most blogs, and I rarely get on Pinterest. While I still have ambitions to lose weight, I have started to focus my efforts more on developing good habits and a strong routine.
My house is messier than I care to admit. My laundry is higher than I would like, and the disorganization in my home is almost more than I can handle. But here’s the thing, I’m learning to let it go because there will always be time to clean, do laundry and organize, but this moment in time with a five-year-old and baby…I can’t get this back.
There is only one kindergarten year. There is only one rookie season of basketball. There is only one Minnie Mouse craze. This is it. I don’t get a re-do. I can’t get this season back. When it’s gone, it’s gone. That is why I am trying to immerse myself in its beauty.
Could I stand to live a healthier lifestyle…yes! Could I develop a better chore schedule…um, yeah! Could I find ways to be more organized…you better believe it!! I’m committed to doing those things, but within reason. I am tired of believing the lie that says, “my life will be better when…” My life is blessed now, and I need to start acting like it. One day my house will be clean, my laundry will be caught up, and I’ll be too old to care how my body looks, but when that day comes, I don’t want to look back on the memories that could have been.
I can’t this back; the good or the bad. So, with everything I have in me, I have to find joy as I clean up sticky messes, wipe runny noses, answer the same questions for the hundredth time, spell non-existent words, read every children’s book ever written, find the missing shoe, sleep train, punish mean spirits and shepard little hearts.
I can’t this back, and one day I will be held accountable for my time. On that day the Lord won’t care how clean my house was, how organized my closets were or how trim my body looked. Instead, he will want to know how I lived and how I loved.
I can’t get this back, so I will choose to love these little people before I miss my chance.
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