Which is more urgent, the school work or the laundry? The meals or the cleaning? My day is filled with constant decisions. Because I know it won’t all get done, at least not at the same time. Every yes, is a no to something else. I become overwhelmed with cooking the proper foods, making sure they get enough time outside, but don’t fall behind on their studies. Am I properly addressing their characters and providing spiritual training?
It’s easy to want to give up, plant them in front of Octonauts with granola bars and feed them boxed macaroni and cheese for dinner. (The dairy free version for my four year old, of course). Because I know that making all the “right” decisions (if I can even be sure what they are) won’t guarantee a result. I have the luxury of worrying about ideal meals and the best home education with my means, while others are concerned about any food or education at all.
But what we have in common, me and the mamas praying their babies grow up without contracting a childhood disease, or being lost to violence or starvation, is that we don’t really have control of our lives. My choices give me the illusion of control. But I can decide to trust, not that God will always keep away the bad things, but that somehow over the expanse of eternity he will equalize the scales, right the injustices and through his grace and mercy bind up the brokenhearted and make all things new.
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