I have a hard time listening to what the Lord tells me.
So sometimes he shows me.
In an attempt to do everything at once
I held a baby in one arm while trying to clean the refrigerator.
Before you judge me, here's a background story:
After I removed the shelves,
my happy and adventurous little boy had been quite cutely climbing in the empty fridge
admiring the light and touching the white walls.
Eventually got a tad chilly and, naturally, wanted mommy to hold him.
How could I say no? He's such a peach these days.
You would've held him too. Don't deny it.
Yet the refrigerator needed a scrubbing. It cried out for cleanliness.
Every time I opened it I heard a desperate whisper:
"Clean me. Please. Clean me."
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Hold the baby? Clean the refrigerator?
In my husband's favorite words by Maximilian Kolbe:
"I choose both."
I was almost done just one more glass shelf to wash in warm water.
The bottom one. The one that holds the veggie drawers.
The one with the plastic and the glass sheet insert.
I leaned over to grab it from the floor with one hand.
I held it for an instant between my fingers.
For an instant.
Before I could do anything to prevent the disaster,
the glass sheet slid out and entirely shattered on the ground.
Entirely. Literally, thousands of tiny pieces of glass.
In every crevice of the floor, under the stove, under the refrigerator, under the dishwasher.
I looked on as the pieces continued to split, probably because of the temperature chance,
they popped like glass popcorn.
In that very brief moment, I said a little prayer.
"Dear Lord. I should have listened to You."
I knew I have had fair warning. I can't do everything, not at once and sometimes not at all.
For a long while He has been telling me to take it easy.
To avoid multi-tasking. To ask for help.
To accept help.
To let it go. To sit and play.
To find peace.
"Wherever you are. Be all there"
The words of Jim Elliot ring in my head.
One thing at a time.
Yet, I haven't listened.
Even now I'm not sure I will listen tomorrow.
But I want to. More than anything I have a willing heart.
I want to look beyond the dust and play with toy cars,
build a fort, jump on the couch.
I really do want that but life is busy.
It's hard to put everything aside.
But, more than anything I have a willing heart.
Looking at the glass, I gasped. I nearly cried.
After my brief prayer. I had thoughts rushing through my head.
How much do these things cost?
Do they even sell these separately?
Am I going to need a new refrigerator?
Maybe I'll get a french door refrigerator.
Back to reality.
I still held a little boy in my arms...
who was totally unmoved by the tragedy and was simply happy to be in his mommy's arms.
"Jake-the-Snake," I said, "Mommy has to clean up."
Puzzled. The little boy went on to play and watch a show.
While his mommy swept up her big lesson of the day from the kitchen floor.