The words naturally come to mind. Managing. Mothering. And I tend to manage more than mother. I have to. Lord knows what this place would look like if no one did laundry or dishes or reminded little boys to pick up Legos.
But what is this house really like? Is it so managed that it’s not mothered? Is the air thick with more hurrying than hugs? More rules than relationships? More lists than love? Am I fooling myself? It’s a balance that’s hard to find.
3 busy boys. A newborn. Give me grace, Father. There’s always time for the musts. Not enough for the cans. And the little moments can slip in well-intentioned planning. In the things that have to be done. But mothering must be done too. Chosen. As important as meals and laundry and God-forbid wasted moments online.
I can choose to manage and mother today. Both. In harmony. But only in His strength. Father, help me.
“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us.” -Ephesians 3:20