Drowning - or delighting - in details

Details either make me or break me. Each day, there are an infinite number of small frustrations and potential disappointments as a mother of young children. They are just little things - a 5-year-old who suddenly, catatonic, can't remember right from left; a toddler suffering from days in Pull-up diapers has five accidents before lunch; a 3-year-old thinks "making her bed" is piling all her blankets and pillows on the floor in a delightful nest; a baby trying to learn to cruise standing up who falls and bloodies his lip over and over. They add up to big things: a dryer that shrinks some important fabric; an extra load of laundry reeking of urine; bedding full of dirt and dog hair; a splatter of blood all over a shirt and the tile floor. The work exponentially increases, and the furrow in my brow becomes a trench, finally exploding in a few hurtful words that shatter the peace and beauty of a sunny morning at home.

I hold my day cupped in my hands, a piece of unfinished needlework God has handed me, the threads all there, the pattern visible. He tended that day while I slept, brought us breath after breath, heartbeat after heartbeat while we lay unaware in our cozy beds. He hands it over, keeping His hand cupped under mine, whispering, "Here, child. For you! Sun glistening on a sparkling blanket of snow! Coffee - those green beans that grow from my dirt and sunshine - brown and pulverized and scenting your home with fragrance! A husband, strong, handsome, glorious, to warm your bed and feed your little ones breakfast. These children, precious fragments of you and he, wound together and threaded strong by My hand. All for you. Look at it laying before you. Now - careful! - take it and add to it and glorify Me with it, this day!"

I grab it with one fist while I throw back the covers, already sighing over the work of the day. I look blindly out the window as I gulp down the coffee. I absent-mindedly kiss my husband, thoughts on schoolwork, or the little one's dirty pj's covered in breakfast. I hustle the children along to their tasks - bed-making, starting the dryer, getting dressed, brushing teeth. Check my e-mail. I rush pell-mell into this gift, this day, and drown in the details. Instead of stepping out of my bed into a blanket of blessings, I sink quickly in a flood of dirty washwater. Here is where faithfulness matters. Here is where I need to attend to details, notice the details, not just take care of them as quickly as possible!

He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much. Luke 16:10

Something inside says pause. Breath in. Start fresh. Gaze down at that piece of needlework in my hand. What stitches have I added so far? Did I even notice the blanket of snow, the smell of the coffee, the glorious pink cheeks of the baby, the delightful bustling about of my husband as he prepared to go to work? How about now: the sun streaming in the kitchen windows, lighting a pair of Dorothy ruby slippers left on the tiles, casting pink glitter all over the room. Notice it. Soak it up. Take your gift from God, this moment. This breath. This hour. You can detract from the glory God handed you, or you can be a true reflection of His glory (and grace). Be faithful. For God is here in the details - whether in the work or the waiting or the resting. He is here! Delight in Him.