My son has a new saying, well three sayings: Holy Cow! Holy Buckets! Holy Tractors!
One of his favorite preoccupations is farming, following in the footsteps of his father, grandfather, great-grandfather and so on (he gets a bit from my side too).
Yesterday I was mentally getting ready for a busy day today. First grabbing some pasta salad for lunch, the writing group (with both kids along), a “massive” playdate with lunch included, getting a nap in for the toddler, snack, swimming, dinner, and the bedtime routine. Knowing my kids who do everything full throttle and the heat that would get to me, it was going to be a long day.
Well, I get to my friend’s house for the writing group…
…and they are not there. There is a message on my phone that the ladies are at my house! Holy Tractors!
Drive back home, let them in, and they get to see my house in the fully glory of dishes waiting their turn in the dishwasher, toys everywhere, and the entryway still in chaos after playing outside last night.
They didn’t care. They didn’t care that I was messed up and forgot it was at my house. They didn’t care that the house was a mess. They just didn’t care.
Actually, it wasn’t that they didn’t care, but rather that they understood. They understood what happens when you are making a million of decisions an hour and things just slip through. They understood what it means to do your best to keep things under control, but really, cannot control anything. They understood what it is to be forced out of a regular schedule during the summer months. They understood.
And out of that understanding, I didn’t care either, because I too, understood.
Lord, thank you for those in my life who walk beside me, reflecting Your love and grace into my clouded life. Amen.