The Miraculous Mundane

The last few days, I have been living under one dark cloud of crank.

I wake up with a light heart and ready to face the day, and then some moment comes and reality breaks in and the crank comes out.

I don't want to be active. I don't want to veg. I don't want clean. I don't want to play. I most certainly don't want to run errands with my kids, even though our refrigerator shelves are feeling lonely.

Somewhere in the mixture of the monotony of daily life and the endless pop-up demands of mommy hood, I grow weary. Of all of it. I don't want life to be boring and predictable, but I also don't want any surprises.

I wipe down counters, I put dishes away, I sweep the floor, I feed the faces, I pick up endless superhero "guys", I add things to shopping lists, I hang up clothes.

The monotony.

I kiss a fresh ouchie, I clean sand out of hair, I break up a fight, I wipe some snot, I break up squabbles, I correct an outburst.

The endless pop-up demands of mommy hood.

I am one who has a laser like focus. Just ask Matt what happens when he tries to talk to me if I am reading or trying to write. If I am deep in thought, it is hard to break through to me: "Gretchen? Gretchen??? Hello?"

Because I am naturally formed this way, I have always enjoyed being by myself when it came to personal devotion time with God. Growing up, that meant shutting myself away in my bedroom. In college with multiple roommates, that meant retreating to a prayer room where I could concentrate. As a mommy of one, that meant waking up early in order to check it off my list before the craziness started. As a mommy of two, finding pockets of time that are uninterruptible is nearly impossible.

In our first year of marriage, I would hole myself up in our bedroom to have quiet time with God when we would get home from work for the day. Read my Bible, check. Pray through my written list of prayer requests, check. Write in my journal, check. It didn't take long for me to notice that Matt never sought such time like this. When I would ask him about it, he'd say, "I just talk with God throughout my day, whatever I'm doing".

Hmmmm. Novel idea. But isn't it easy to get distracted that way and aren't there some days where you reach bedtime and realize you haven't spoken at all? That was my fear of trying that approach. I didn't want to risk missing Him.

There have been times this pregnancy where I have felt totally disconnected from God. My brain is one big pile of scrambled eggs and there is no ability to laser focus in on anything except the demand of the moment. I miss the connection. My love language is quality time and lately so little of it feels quality. It feels broken, rushed, slopped together. I'm in survival mode half the time.

I find myself missing early morning Bible reading while I drank my coffee. I miss running on the treadmill while I listened to worship music or a sermon. I miss shutting myself in a room without the door being knocked on or opened or hearing crying on the other side of it.

It's easy to tell myself: this is just a season. You'll be able to connect with God again soon. The boys are only young for so long and they won't need you this much forever. Soon you'll be able to find your pockets of time again when you can check 'connect with God' off the daily schedule.

But the truth is, I'm not really okay with that. I'm not okay with feeling connected someday. I want more of Him today: A) Because I can't make it through the day without His joy and strength and B) Because He's worthy of being wanted every single second and not put up on some shelf for when relationship feels convenient again.

I "joke" every now and then that if it wasn't for God, I would be hooked on some kind of medication to deal with life. I say it smiling, but it feels true. I need Him and I know it. I don't like feeling unplugged.

I read this the other day and it totally resonated with me:

"The great lie of motherhood: I'll find Him when life slows down or this burden lifts or my present struggle no longer nips at my heels...instead, the fight is to find Him when the dishwasher breaks and a friend just doesn't understand me and my daughters' wounds surface again" ("Every Bitter Thing is Sweet" by Sara Hagerty)

Yes!!! I felt it firmly as I underlined the words in the book. It is this moment, every moment really, where He is available to be found. There is something in me that expects Him to show up in the good moments and not the mundane, maniacal ones - which, honestly, is when I need Him most.

When I try to make it through my monotony or pop-up demands without Him, I do myself a disservice by acting in my own power. But when I see every single moment as a chance to meet with Him, I create space for Him to move and speak.

This was verified to me when I read the next day in my devotional:

"His purpose is for me to depend on Him and on His power now. If I can stay calm, faithful, and unconfused while in the middle of the turmoil of life, the goal of the purpose of God is being accomplished in me...it is the process, not the outcome, that is glorifying to God...God's purpose is to enable me to see that He can walk on the storms of my life right now." ("My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers)

God doesn't want my someday, He just wants today. I can't honor Him tomorrow; I only have my right now, in which I can choose to see His hand in the midst of the mundane and the chaos of motherhood.

Just a couple of months ago, my mom posed this question to our parenting class at church: "How will you know that you've been a successful parent?"

I answered assuredly, "If my boys grow up and live for Christ." Nothing else matters to me more than that. By stating that, I was essentially branding myself a failure if I don't see my boys choosing Christ. In a way, I probably will feel like a failure if that happens. However, my life and how it honors God should not ever be based upon the choices that someone else is allowed to make.

This too was written by Sara Hagerty and caused me reexamine this goal:
"If my chief end as a mother is anything less than knowing Him and carrying His glory in my life, I will walk through these years empty".

This moment is all I have to choose to honor Him. It's all I have to choose to love others and put their needs ahead of my own. It's all I have, whether it's mundane or miraculous.

I will meet with Him in the chaos, and not just the convenience of a quiet room.

I will choose to see Him in it all.