this glorious mess

sunlight peeks through the blinds and onto my face.  morning.  and even though i've told myself a million times that each day is a gift, i can't help but think...ugh.  morning.  i need a few more hours of sleep, Lord.

stayed up too late chopping veggies and washing counters and searching for some "me" time.
and then Tulip was up again.  middle of the night..standing in her crib.  thumb in her ear.  begging me to hold her.

and after 1/2 hour of rocking, i made it back to bed, fell exhausted into the pillow.  that was three hours ago, but seems like three minutes.  and now, the house is quiet and i'm so sleepy, but i need a little quiet.  no washing machine thrumming in the background.  no phone ringing.  no music.  just me and the Word.

i tiptoe up the stairs.  over a plastic ice cream cone and around someone's discarded slippers.  get to the top of the stairs and there's the laundry.  i squint at it.  wishing it would just go away.

pour my coffee and sink into the couch.  open to Colossians...hear a little voice.  momma?  momma?  i need go potty.

put down coffee.  put down Word.

gather up little and whisper how glad i am to see her face.

she wants peanut butter and jelly.

while i'm putting toast in the toaster, i notice fingerprints all over the bay window.  the leftovers from two smiling faces pressed up against the glass when the rain fell hard earlier this week.  i meant to wipe that down.

hand her breakfast.  sit down with coffee and Bible next to her and begin to read Colossians out loud.

no sooner does, "Since you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above... " fall from my lips and "mamamamamamama" comes tumbling out of baby girl's room.

put down coffee.  put down Word.

step on crumbs, stuck to feet.  brush them off and step on more.

step over puzzle, walk past laundry folded three days ago.

pick up precious.  whisper my love right into that infected ear.

change diaper.  realize i forgot to wash diapers last night.  baby in  high chair.  wash hands.  banana for Tulip.  run to the basement to start a load.

forgot the soap.  run back down.

back upstairs.  banana on floor and face.  baby girl smiles at me like i'm the mona lisa and she's been waiting all her life to look at me.

pick up coffee.  cold. 

smiling girls.  Peach says, "Momma, you wan' know why I love you?"

I yawn, headache.  "Why, love?"

Her reply that I'm not quite ready for: "Because Jesus tells me to."

And I'm dumfounded.  Smart girl.

And I say, "Right back at you, Peach."

Sometimes that's all the love we have.  It isn't this glorious, beautiful love that we dream of, but a love that happens in the mess of life.  A love that we give when we're tired and empty and cracked.  A love that happens over sticky floors and wrinkled laundry.  And for today, that love...the love that Jesus commands us to give in the midst of the mess...well, that will be enough.