I had a funny situation on Monday when a friend came over with her kids for our weekly p.e. class. She noticed that my house smelled clean and that my trash can was sitting off the floor on top of an organizing cart. Those things led her to think that I had mopped my floors while teaching school that morning!
No. The opposite of that.
Reality? My floors had (lots of) food on them and will until my housecleaner comes, the clean smell was a candle, and my trash can is never sitting on the floor because my kids try to eat out of it. Yeah. But thank goodness for grapefruit candles, right?
I’ve been working on gaining proper perspective on the realities of time limitations and the uselessness of comparing myself to others. I really want to read and write a whole lot more than I do. It’s easy for me to sit down in front of my blog feed at lunch and let the comparative thoughts sneak in. Why can’t I write like her? She turns out awesome content multiple times a week! All I have to say is that my kids are fighting again, my yogurt-covered baby has a saggy diaper, and I can’t find my kitchen counters in the massive pile of dirty dishes.
Reality? Of all the blogs I read, only one writer homeschools her kids. (And Ann Voskamp? Well, just crazy awesome, that one.) I say that with zero judgment or resentment—it was just a really helpful realization that comparing myself to someone who has a totally different calling is just a waste of the time I wish I had more of. Right now, God hasn’t called me to be a full-time writer. He has called me to spend my days with all our kids, love them through their hard junk, and write in the snippets of time that appear haphazardly. Like today, in which I wrote in the minutes between Seth falling off a chair and bleeding profusely, refereeing multiple fights, starting the laundry, teaching school, and attacking those dishes.
May my eyes be fixed on Christ, and may I live with the perspective that I am His, whatever the moments of my days may require.