So we knew that January was going to be mega busy, and it was. I was hoping that February would be slower, maybe verge on boring, and it has not been so far. Out of desperation to keep up, we’ve resorted to keeping ongoing to do lists. Yet frustratingly enough, the list never gets shorter. Instead, we just get more tired. So tired in fact, that all four of us overslept by 1.5 hours on Sunday morning. The Sunday morning when I was to get to church in time to set up for a bake sale. Talk about waking up and being panicked.

Therefore, needless to say, the house is in a worse state of trashed than normal, the bill pile is large, the tax return is needing to be finished and sent off, the passport application for E needs to be started, the roof repair needs to be finished, the house needs a second layer of child-proofness as one child thinks it’s fabulous to open the front door and say hi to everyone who passes by (while Mommy is showering), the other child is climbing book shelves, eating dog food, and ripping paper, all the while, the dog is stealing everything (literally) that the other two leave on the floor. I hope you got tired just reading that. 🙂

Yet in the midst of all of this, I’m learning one thing. I am not great at anything that I’m currently doing. I’m not the greatest cook, not the best at budgeting, definitely not the best housekeeper, dieter, disciplinarian, nutritionist, laundress, planner, baker, decorator, worker, you name it. I’m basically average. And that doesn’t bother me in the least. This occurred to me on Monday night at 9 o’clock after a day of working, grocery shopping, taking care of kids, bathing them, feeding them, putting them to bed, then tackling a long to do list while waiting for Mark to get home from Bible school. I was dog tired and still had to do Ryder’s valentine cards for his preschool class. Truthfully, I wanted them to be cute and nice, but really, I had zero energy. So I just did what I could do. And after seeing what all the other kids’ moms did, mine really were just average. But does it matter? Nope.

What does matter is that a.) God doesn’t love me based on what I’m good at. He just loves me. b.) My kids don’t love me based on how great I cook, how fun I am, or how nicely their Valentine cards are. They just want me to love them. c.) Mark doesn’t care how clean the house is, how bad my hair is, or whether he gets five course meals every night. He just wants me peaceful and happy. And d.) What matters to me is that I’m always learning, always teachable, always adaptable, always flexible, and always pursuing a right heart.

While I was making the cards for Ryde’s class, I decided to use the handy iBethel app on my ipad. One of the features of the ipad that I do really love. And I saw that Bill Johnson had been in town on the 12th (my birthday) and preached. So I chose that sermon as I enjoy his messages, which don’t happen often. He just happened to speak on patience and the love chapter from 1 Corinthians 13. He tied patience into resting and into knowing that in God’s love we can patiently wait on Him. And I can’t explain the message, but I will say that it clearly illuminated a subject that I’ve been desperate to learn more about. Patience is my weakest point in life. I’m a fixer, a doer, a let’s change this or make it happen type person. Yet many times, God wants us to put the situation in His hands and let Him fix, change, or make it happen. That’s been hard for me to learn. So to hear a detailed message on how and why we should do that was greatly needed. I feel like I learned an awful lot as I sat on the floor making Valentine cards. And I felt like God knew that I needed to hear that message and know it was for me; I received it and grabbed hold.

So in the midst of all this busyness, all the mess, all the to do stuff, my heart is at rest. I know that God’s teaching us a lot right now. I know that He doesn’t want me fixing the things that I so badly want to fix. I know that He’s been trying to teach me to quit striving, to stop being such a perfectionist, and to just let it go. I know that He’s wanted me to not care so much about what people think. It’s okay to let people see my trashed house. In the long run, it doesn’t really matter if the boys and I had a disastrous shopping experience at King Soopers. My reaction to it matters, not being lazy matters, loving on my kids matters. But He really doesn’t mind that I’m not the best wife, mom, sister, daughter, friend, dog owner, etc. He just wants me to honor Him, trust Him, and do my best as unto Him. He wants me to keep my heart in a state where I’m always listening, always learning, always ready to respond to His urging and prompting. When that final day arrives and I stand before Him, He’s not going to say “Mic, you failed at breastfeeding, you failed at keeping Zoya from eating all plastic, you failed at using every penny wisely, you failed at time management, and you failed at looking and being perfect.” No, but He will say “I had this person that I wanted you to speak with, this one to love on, this one to say an encouraging word to.” And whether I responded to that and took or missed those opportunities is all dependent on my heart and state of hearing. That’s what really matters; that’s what matters along the way as we maneuver through our to do list. And at 34 years old, I get it . . . . finally, I get it.

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