Thursday, February 16, 2012

Celebrating chaos and humility


This morning I find Cam sitting at the kitchen counter, about to take a swig of the Panado. I scold him ferociously for playing with medicine, and myself for leaving it out. Then I drop the Panado on the floor (in an attempt not to drop Scott, who is crying because I yelled at Cammy). Superb. Glass. Sticky green. Both boys crying now. Lola is concerned for us all, so she walks through the Panado to check on us. More sticky green – golden retriever prints right out the kitchen door and beyond. Murray gets the mop and we perform alternating manoeuvres involving teeth-brushing and Panado-mopping and glass-splinter-retrieval and juice-bottle-filling and school-bag-packing and nose-blowing and tempers are beginning to blaze, somewhat. Mutterings and apologies. Panado and tears mostly mopped. We flee the premises in a state of dubious readiness for the day.

The traffic on Glenwood Road soothes me in a slow, bumper-to-bumper kind of way as John Robbie’s Irish lilt solves the world’s problems. And I think: shouldn’t I be celebrating life? Shouldn’t I be finding God’s glory in the mundane and the magnificent and the spilt muti?

So, I’m celebrating the life that two warm little bodies can throw into an ordinary Thursday morning and I’m seeing God’s glory in teachable moments and forgiveness for my failings and the hope of handling things better next time.

‘Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.’ – Lamentations 3:23

No comments:

Post a Comment