Imitating Me

Frustrated with the continual mess. Frustrated with the lack of space. The constant purging. The constant squeeze.

I ask the little ones to clean their room and the whining starts.

Where does that come from?

Their words express what is in my heart.

I tell them if they can’t clean up they have too much stuff.

They see the plastic bag and the whining turns to screaming. I reassure my girls that I’m not throwing things away. It’s just…there is so little room. We need to store some things for the sake of sanity.

And I grow weary. Headache and heat mixed with the inner turmoil of a soul who craves order and beauty. I pause to pray.

The constant dilapidation into chaos happens in my heart, too.

Setting things right begins internally. It happens when I choose to lay it all down.

It happens when I choose contentment in the midst of chaos.

I remind my soul that this too shall pass. The things around me are temporal. I squint to see with the eyes of faith. Eternal beings are in my care. These precious souls need a good model to follow, but I fail. I wail. I flail.

Discipline is far from me, but can’t it be squeezed in to replace some of the messes within?

And when that happens, the external might just might match the internal.

And then my children will learn habits worthy of modeling.