This serving Jesus thing is messy.
I wake up to my selfishness every morning as I climb out of bed, tip-toeing ever so quietly so as not to wake my sleeping beauties. All I want is time for me. Time to think and wake up and drink coffee and read a bit before my day is full of spills and whining and dirty clothes and people calling and children asking and needs arising.
It's messy in this heart of mine as I fight frustration when five-minutes into my me-time the middle one awakes all full of needs like breakfast and hugs. How inconvenient. Such basic necessities that cloud my sight from the true needs of a self-sacrificing mama who is happy to serve her three little people who will all too soon be three big people.
It's messy when I finally settle in after a long day of "why nots" and bandaging wounds of neighborhood kids who I can't seem to make understand that if they would just wear shoes they wouldn't slice their feet open and then that family shows up on our porch to stay the night and they haven't eaten dinner yet.
Don't they know my messy heart doesn't feel like serving more today?
I wonder what their problem is. Don't they know how rude it is to show up unannounced?
Then I realize that the problem is in me. It's my selfishness and pride that says that I come first or at least that I have earned some time for self-focused relaxation.
It's messy this Jesus serving thing. But mainly because it's messy in this heart of mine.
