I came home from town the other day to a house full of children and an unflushed toilet full of mess. Of course, no one would claim it. I wondered whether or not the q-tip that was also in the bowl would make it safely through the turns and bends, and what the chances were that it would get stuck and cause a greater problem than that of accepting what had to be done and sticking my hand in that bowl. I pondered my position.
The glamour of motherhood, if there had ever been any to begin with was swallowed up in the plastic bag I wrapped tightly around my arm.
You see, I have this longing within to be great. I want to be super at something. I want to achieve and do and grow and be.
As the day wore on and I went about my responsibilities God breathed wisdom into my mind: Maybe my greatness will be that of my children's. Greatness is in everyday ordinaries.
It is in the preparing of a grilled cheese lunch.
It is in the putting of a camera in little hands and seeing life through her eyes, her world.
It is in the making of lemon Jell-o.
It is in the strokes of a paint brush.
It is in the workbooks, the math, and even in the frustration.
(Tate is attempting to "disarm" me with his "wand" as I attempt to instruct him in math. Expelliarmus!)
It is in the cutting of oranges . . .
and the folding of dishcloths.