Manna for Moms

It's no secret that I am still (and probably will be in the process of for a very long time), trying to figure out this whole mother thing. I am often embarrased at my own thought life while thanking God that He being the Almighty Gracious One, is the only one who knows some of my deepest frustrations and conflicting thoughts. I never thought that my heart could contain the capacity to love like I love my little Inslee. Her cuddles, her laughs, her kisses, and even her sweet cries warm my heart to no end. Along with all of the remarkable boundaries of love pushed far beyond I had ever expected, life has arrived with new challenges. Although from the outside and mistakenly even in my mind, these challenges may seem to include lack of sleep, the mundane of changing diapers and balancing other daily tasks along with spending time with her, the main challenge that effects even the smallest of small, is the spiritual health of my walk with God.

Here is a poem I found on Manna for Moms this morning entitles "Loving Jesus"

I started my day early,

Before the room was light.

I lifted my son from his crib

And wished it was still night.

But as I held him close and said,

"Hi, Kenneth, precious one,"

I knew that as I greeted him,

I greeted too God's Son

When my daughter woke up later,

Calling, "Mommy!  Mommy!  Down!"

I picked her up and hugged her

In her worn Elmo nightgown.

I know she felt the closeness

That a mother's touch affords.

I welcomed not just Ellie,

But so, too, the Lord of Lords.

That day, I mixed some formula

And opened jars of peas.

I fixed some "pizza butter" bread

When she grinned and said, "Pleeeeease."

I heated up some leftovers;

I had to nuke them twice.

And when I fed my children,

I was feeding Jesus Christ.

I wiped up sticky cereal

And washed the dishes clean.

I straightened, picked up, put away,

And dusted in between.

I did six loads of laundry

And folded it like new.

When I cleaned for my children,

I cleaned for my Savior, too.

When my children were both crying,

I held them in my arms.

I cuddled them and whispered

That I'd keep them safe from harm.

I told them how their Father saved them

With His perfect Lamb.

When I comforted my children,

I comforted I AM.

Later on that evening,

I put them in the bath.

I washed their little bodies

As they kicked around and splashed.

I dried them in soft towels

And put their jammies on.

When I had washed my children's feet,

I'd washed the Holy One.

I cooked and cleaned and rearranged,

Made beds and taught and played.

I made sure that we had food to eat

And that we often prayed.

I died to self.  I made a home

From ordinary things.

But when I served my children,

I served the King of Kings.

To some, I have done nothing,

But to two, I've done the world.

I made eternal difference

To my precious boy and girl,

And to the One who watches over

Every pathway that I've trod.

For when I've loved my precious children,

I've loved Almighty God.

 - Megan Breedlove (www.MannaForMoms.com)

What a transforming power that God gives our minds through His word. This poem was not only a tearful reminder that my work at home does matter, but that through His truth I am empowered to please Him in all of it. How do people live this life without Him? I am thankful I will never have to find out.