Maybe it’s because I’ve been sick for the past few days and that always makes me overly dramatic.  I feel like I’ll never be healthy again and I get overwhelmed at how I’ll ever survive the rest of my life feeling as awful as I do.

True story.

You’d think after being sick at least once a year for my entire life that I would understand that it generally passes in a few days, but nope.  I always feel like I’m doomed to feel sick forever.

I’m such a weirdo.

Or, maybe it’s that the weather has turned cold and we are cooped up in the house all day.  Bundling up in coats, hats and mittens and then battling carseat buckles and straps amidst protests that they are “too tight” or that the coat is “too bunchy” is enough to make me wave the white flag and just stay home.  Inside.  All day.

Whatever the case, lately I’ve been feeling really discouraged.

Overwhelmed by the mundanity of each day.

It honestly feels like a broken record right now.

Every day feels exactly the same as the one before it.

Just like the movie Groundhog Day where Bill Murray lives the same day (Groundhog Day) over and over again.

I wake up every morning to Grace crying out in her bed or standing at the side of mine.  I feel a pang of guilt and remorse that yet another morning has come with me waking up to my kids instead of waking up before them and spending some quiet time alone with God.

If it’s dark enough I can convince her to lay with me for a little while and I can snooze a few more minutes.  She incessantly asks to watch something on my phone.  I normally don’t cave, but when both girls have been up multiple times in the night and I’m feeling frayed at the edges (like today), I give in.

Eventually she tires of whatever she’s watching and/or Avery wakes up and starts calling for us.  That’s when I stumble, puffy-eyed, out of bed and carry Grace downstairs.

Grace goes into Avery’s room to provide a little crib-side entertainment while I get her breakfast on the table and prepare a bottle for Aves.

I grab Avery, change her diaper and head to the dining room to fasten Grace’s challenging rubber bib with one hand.  I loathe this process every morning because trying to fasten the darn thing without grabbing any of her hair in the process is downright difficult using only one hand.  If I put Avery down, she obviously thinks I’ll never pick her up again and that she’ll never get the bottle she sees sitting on the table because she screams like the dickens.  At this hour of the morning when I’m still half-awake, the screaming isn’t worth it.  So I engage in the one-handed bib wrestle.

Once Grace’s bib is on, Avery and I head to the couch where I cuddle her and she eats her morning bottle.  Sometimes a whole 5 minutes of blessed silence ensues at this point.

Often Grace will interrupt it by asking questions.  “Are you sitting on the couch?” “Where are my stuffed animals?” “Is Avery touching them?” “Is she still eating?” “What will she do when she’s done?” “Is my puppy on the couch?” “DON’T LET AVERY TOUCH HIM!”

Obviously sharing and generosity are lessons taught often and learned well over here.

::snort::

After her bottle, Avery sits at the table and eats some solid food while Grace finishes her breakfast.  I usually sit with them, still sleepy and asking God for grace enough to get through the day.

Then starts the wiping.

Wiping Grace’s face and hands.  Her spot at the table.  The floor beneath her chair.

Wiping Avery’s face and hands.  Her spot at the table.  Her high chair.  The floor beneath her chair.

Washing both bibs, rinsing all dishes.  Wiping away the crumbs that seem ever-present on my counters and kitchen floor.

The girls play and I start a pot of coffee.  An argument ensues, I run interference.  I sip some coffee.  Catch up on social media… you know, instead of having that Bible study I was wishing I’d started my day with.  The girls have another spat, I run more interference.

Some days I coax both girls into the playroom while I take a shower and get dressed.  I find that it really helps my mood to wear actual clothes and spend time doing my hair and makeup so I try to do it at least a few times a week, even if we aren’t leaving the house.

More playing and more interference.  The whole sharing, kindness, generosity, teaching thing is exhausting.  I know human nature is selfish and greedy.  Mine certainly is, but trying to lovingly mold my children into people who are kind and generous and loving is a daunting task. Add in the fact that one is too young to understand and the other is far more emotional than logical at this point in life, it seems downright impossible.

But I keep trying.

Sometimes I get angry and yell.  Then I feel bad, ask for forgiveness, pray with them both and start over.  And over.  And over.

Avery goes down for her morning nap and most days Grace and I do a little “schoolwork”.  This should make me feel good, but I usually feel disappointed that we didn’t spend more time or do things that are more creative.  

Then Avery wakes up and it’s the mealtime routine again.  Grace’s lunch, Avery’s bottle, questions, more questions.  Wiping, more wiping.  Dishes, more dishes.

Playtime.  More arguments.  Still not sharing.  Still not playing gentle.  A patch of smooth sailing…kindness, gentleness, generosity.  Another spat. Toys everywhere.  So much stuff, yet nothing seems “fun enough” for the 3 year old. Give a little speech about how blessed we are to have a nice warm home and so many great toys.  Talk about children who have nothing and are hungry.  It doesn’t seem to make a difference.  I’m hoping that deep down it is.  I want a thread of gratitude and contentment to run through the fabric of my children’s lives.

Rewind and play it again for dinner time.

Every single day.

If we don’t leave the house, my days are nearly identical from one to the next.

And honestly, they are good days.  We are all healthy.  We have a nice home with nice things.  There is always food to eat.  We know and love the Lord.

So why do I get so frustrated?

Why do I feel overwhelmed at the thought of these days stretching on one after the other for years and years?

The last session in my bible study was about worship.  It really opened my eyes to a few things…

We are worshipping beings.

I know we usually think of singing songs in church when we think of worship, but it’s so much more than that.

Human beings are worshipping-beings.  We worship what we ultimately love, whether we are conscious of it or not.

Worship is not an optional sort of thing, as though we might think or say, “I’m not really into worship” or “I am not going to worship today.”

No.

Everyone worships all the time.  It is continual.  It is ongoing.

And whatever we worship orients our whole way of life.

~VantagePoint3, A Way of Life

The study went on to talk about how we were created to worship God, but after the fall, our worship became misdirected.  Misdirected worship is often called idolatry.

Ouch.

What is it that is so central to our lives that should we lose it our life would feel hardly worth living?  What has such a controlling position in our hearts that we can spend most of our passion and energy, our emotional and financial resources on it without a second thought?

What do we look at and say, in our heart of hearts, “If I have that, then I’ll feel my life has meaning, then I’ll know I have value, then I’ll feel significant and secure.”

There are many ways to describe that kind of relationship to something, but perhaps the best one is worship.

~VantagePoint3, A Way of Life

I’m honestly still mulling this one over.  I think, for me, it’s a combination of having some kind of amazing reputation and having the ideal family.

I wish my idol was some little golden Buddha figurine that I could just throw in the trash.  But it’s not.  My idol is so much a part of me and my every moment, that taking it down off the alter is going to be no small feat.

A feat I surely cannot accomplish on my own.

Enter God.

You know, the One we were created to worship.  Instead of all the lesser (albeit good) things that we choose to worship with our time, energy and affections.

He can help me re-orient my worship if I allow Him to.

And oh how I long for Him to help!

You see, we become like the thing we worship.

When you gaze in awe, admiration, and wonder at something or someone, you begin to take on the character of the object you worship.  Those who worship money become, eventually, human calculating machines.  Those who worship sex become obsessed with their own attractiveness or prowess.  Those who worship power become more and more ruthless…

When you gaze in love and gratitude at the God in whose image you were made, you do indeed grow.  You discover more of what it means to be fully alive.

N.T. Wright via VantagePoint3, A Way of Life

So here’s the thing…

I can continue to feel like I’m drowning in a vortex of repetition and drudgery…wiping mouths and bottoms day in and day out.

OR

I can respond to Romans 12:1 (MSG) and, “Take {my} everyday, ordinary life – my sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life – and place it before God as an offering.

Then my day will become a cyclone of worshipping the One who created me and this whole magnificent earth.  And only then will I become more like Him and more fully alive.

The choice seems obvious, yes?

Lord, grant me the courage and faithfulness to submit every single one of my routine tasks into your hands as an act of worship.

Then, blessed will be each of my days and what joy will erupt from a heart so in tune with my Lord!