My Time

By Charis Seeley

My husband and I seem to make all of our big life changes at once. We have a three year old daughter, and we’ve recently decided it’s time to leave our current house in search of greener pastures with four bedrooms and a finished basement. In the chaos of trying to prepare our current house for the real estate market, the simplest of tasks seem to pile up. And despite the longer hours of sunshine, the day is still only 24 hours long. We’re exhausted and nowhere close to finished. Too often it’s hard to see where the day has gone.

If I Find Time

It will surely be hiding under the sofa,

       riddled with holes of dust bunny nibbles.

I may have left it in between

       the third and fourth undone laundry loads.

I have searched my dresser,

       where it did not lay under the sweaters awaiting the dry cleaner.

It may have slipped into old pacifiers,

        or into boxes of baby clothes stacked for storage.

Perhaps I left it across town,

       forgotten in a shopping cart,

            or pressed between the pages of a coupon flyer.

It must be hiding.

I cannot find it.

I must have lost it.

I could not have thrown it out.

I have looked for my time,

       And I find that it does not gather with the dishes,

            Nor with the anxieties,

                 Or the projects,

                      Or the books, dust, or pipes.

But in a set of eyes still too young to have decided their color,

        grey or blue or green.

Most often,

        It is there that I find my time.

Still Life

By Rolie Grady

Here is something for those who see the world at a slightly different angle.  Since I houseclean for a living, I have to be aware of my surroundings….to notice the way a room is laid out, and plan my work strategy without disturbing it’s essence.

  Every family is unique.  Some ladies are very particular about their knick knacks and pictures.  Others live in casual disarray and they welcome me with open arms each week.  As I dust and vacuum,  I think about the personal expressions being made. 

 For example, one house’s décor is early colonial American. There are times when everyone is gone on my cleaning day.  It’s nice to take a final walk through the house after the work is done.   If I sit quietly,  each room begins to talk,  sharing stories with me.    Homespun wisdom is deeply embedded in roughly hewn tables and chairs.  Authentic New England-built fireplaces are flanked by  kindling and axe cut logs.   Wooden plank floors join a modern kitchen to its older counterpart in the open dining area.

 What can I learn even when people are not present?  Plenty.  Even though the outward forms change, the essential expressions of life – eating, sleeping, working, playing – go on for generations.  And each family leaves it’s mark for others to observe, whether in this time and place or somewhere down the road.

 What do I want to say to others who visit my home?  What do I need to hear from my surroundings?  Probably the same wisdom that has been passed on to me:  Saturate your life with love of God and family.  Cling tightly to laughter, peace, and joy.  Let the rest pass through your fingers. 

 At the end of the day, busyness fades and our spirits need nourishment.  Thankfully it can be found where it’s always been.   In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.  Be still and know that I am God.

Please Pass the Planner…

By Robin J. Steinweg

…because I can’t get enough. Yes, I’m referring to Thanksgiving. No, I’m not talking turkey. I’m talking family. I can’t get enough of family. The catching up with those who live far, the chatter of younger ones, the smiles of older ones, the bulging sides (of the house, not the feasting visitors), Grandma’s ready wit, cousin antics, sibling jibes, Grandpa’s horse-back rides--even Uncle’s groan-worthy puns. Can’t get enough.

Every time we gather as a family, someone says, “We should do this more often.” Everyone nods, everyone agrees. “Someone” is right. It’s important. It may not be urgent, but it is important.

For the next family feast, I’ll ask each person to bring something. Not food. I’ll ask them to bring their planners. We’ll get a date on the calendar and make it a priority. There may be those whose work schedule or vacation won’t cooperate—but maybe they’ll make it next time, or the time after. Forget all the objections; I want to see a date on the calendar! The days are too precious—the people are too precious—to wait a year.

Please pass the planner!

Introducing Sharon Wilhite

Pity or Pity Party?

Nine family members' bags packed, presents wrapped and bagged, leftovers eaten, last load of laundry completed, two pet fish carried over to the neighbor's, plants liberally watered.

 I fall into bed after 11 p.m. tired but excited about our next day's much anticipated trip to my sister's home in Missouri.  We haven't made this trip in years.  The children (especially the younger boys) have been talking for weeks about seeing and playing with their cousins. 

4 a.m.  I am awakened by crying in our bedroom doorway.  One of those young boys has apparently come down with the flu.  Sigh...He has a headache, fever, and terribly aching joints.  He can't quit crying not only because he physically hurts all over, but also because he knows that the rest of the family can't go on vacation now as planned...and it's his fault.  I put him in bed with my husband and me and hold him close.  Neither of us can sleep.  I am disappointed and tired, but I love my son far more than a long awaited vacation.  I rub his legs and pray for him.  

9 a.m.  His closest brother in age comes in, disgruntled look on his face, an angry, complaining spirit filling the room.
"What?  We're not going this morning?  I'm mad at you!" his face says.
 Normal human nature?  Unfortunately, yes.  Godly nature?  No!  

A verse comes to mind.  I search my Bible to find it.  Psalm 103:13-14.  I read, "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the LORD pitieth them that fear Him.  For He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust."  
Just as a Mom or Dad can unselfishly put aside their wishes/expectations for the needs of their children, so the Almighty God puts aside His position as Sovereign of All to meet my needs-your needs.  

Psalm 103 wonderfully reminds us that the LORD forgives and heals us, redeems us from destruction, crowns us with kindness and mercies.  He renews our strength.  God is merciful and gracious.  He is slow to anger and plenteous in mercy.  

Yes, the LORD pitieth His children.  He feels our sufferings; He understands our humanity and, therefore, can truly show us sympathy and compassion.  
I pray that my selfish young son will mature spiritually and take on the character traits of His Heavenly Father.  
 
I pray that "I" will not fail to consistently model godly compassion as a wife and my son's mother. 

Help me, Father.
Amen

Sharon Wilhite is the wife of one Terry Wilhite (teacher, chimney sweep, and handyman) and mother of seven children (4 girls and 3 boys, ages 6-19).  She likes to write children's picture books, poems, and insights from her personal devotions.  Her other joys in life (other than her children) include taking pictures of bugs and flowers and eating dark chocolate.  Homeschooling, housework, and cooking take up most of her time.  If anyone has a beachfront cottage they would like to loan her in order for her to write in peace and quiet, she would love to hear from you!