Friday, May 04, 2012
My house is a mess. There are baskets of clean, folded clothes on the floor. Dirty dishes on the counter. Bits of yarn, thread, and fabric strewn about.Grass and mud tracked across the floor. Blessings, all of it. We are blessed enough to have more clothes than the ones we are wearing. I have strong arms and a strong back to carry the laundry to the washer and out to the clothesline. But I have 3 lovely little distractions that keep me from actually putting the freshly laundered items back in their drawers. Dirty dishes mean we have been feed. Our bellies are not empty and neither is our pantry. We've prepared meals together and sat down to enjoy them together, as a family. But the mess can wait because little hands tug at my clothes and small voices beg for my attention. The fabric and notions... tangible bits of creativity. Accomplished during naptime and after bedtime. Blessings. I don't mind the dirty floor. It means we have a yard. A sanctuary for the kids to go out, explore, have an adventure. The mud and grass comes in on little (and not so little) shoes as they share their tales and excitement. Blessed. We are the stewards of this patch of earth. These three children. My husband.