Slipping

I’m in this place where I’m consumed with everything that I think is important. I pile high my to-do list with chores and busy-ness, eagerly reaching for the satisfaction of check marks, tidiness, organization, and cleanliness.

Little girls in need of meals and snacks, help with chores and hygiene, and wants of “watch me.” I provide what is wanted. Barely giving what is actually needed… Time and smiles. Gratefulness and thankfulness. Attention and encouragement.

So impatient, I am agitated with their sharing and storytelling. Selfish, I restlessly listen, rushing them through their thoughts. Only angered when I see them doing the same thing to each other a minute later.

I feel like I’m slipping from His hands. Falling away from grace and truth. Amnesic, I stare blindly in the present not knowing why it is the way it is. Sick, I reach toward understanding. Wanting renewing. Desiring change. Hoping for freedom from this path.

Choosing, I open my eyes. Knowing, I realize I’m not slipping. I’m letting go. Running in the other direction. So often I do this, forgetting that the journey with Him is so much better than mine.

Blessed am I, to have a Saviour who is ever patient, loving, and gracious. Who gives and gives, asking for nothing in return.

I’m running back, again. Joyfully knowing that nothing can be stolen from His hands.