A New Day
I’m typing away at 9:37 in the morning, and I can hear my precious angels yelling at one another over some coveted toy.
Today is a new day.
Another shriek pierces the silence; I better go have a look. They were arguing over which Little People girl they wanted to play with. They each wanted both. I remind them to share; each of them can have one. They can’t seem to agree which one they each want. I notice Abby’s previously mommy-made bed unmade again, at the fidgety, wandering hands of my preschooler. After some urging, we remake her bed. Then Abby decides she’s done with Little People and wants to color, to which I reply, “In a minute. Mommy’s busy right now”; I feel a twinge of guilt. I know this moment of typing is fleeting, as she will be upon me in another flash to color with her again.
Today is a new day.
I need a shower. The dishwasher needs emptying. Upon my dresser sits a laundry basket of unfolded sheets. In the dryer a load of wrinkled kids’ clothes awaits me. I have a transcript I need to finish editing for my mom. I need to sit and read my Bible and spend time with the Lord.
Today is a new day.
My toddler is rubbing up against my leg, playing triumphantly with both Little People girls on the desk next to me. She drops one under my foot, under the desk, and mumbles an incoherent question. I stop typing and reach down to retrieve the fallen toy. She giggles gleefully at the fact that I understand her request, though it was delivered in her almost-two-year-old dialect of gibberish.
Is today a new day?
Abby, covered over with the plush couch throw, calls to me from an empty diaper box, “Mommy come find me.” After calling several times, “Where’s Abby?” I go back to my keyboard, and Abby gives up on being found for the moment, helping her sister into the box. Now she is driving her sweaty little sister, who is surrounded by blankets inside the box, around the dining room floor.
Though it seems like an average, any-other-day type day, it is a new day.
This is the day the Lord hath made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it.
I will begin by spending it with Him so that I can spend it with them.
Today is a new day.
Another shriek pierces the silence; I better go have a look. They were arguing over which Little People girl they wanted to play with. They each wanted both. I remind them to share; each of them can have one. They can’t seem to agree which one they each want. I notice Abby’s previously mommy-made bed unmade again, at the fidgety, wandering hands of my preschooler. After some urging, we remake her bed. Then Abby decides she’s done with Little People and wants to color, to which I reply, “In a minute. Mommy’s busy right now”; I feel a twinge of guilt. I know this moment of typing is fleeting, as she will be upon me in another flash to color with her again.
Today is a new day.
I need a shower. The dishwasher needs emptying. Upon my dresser sits a laundry basket of unfolded sheets. In the dryer a load of wrinkled kids’ clothes awaits me. I have a transcript I need to finish editing for my mom. I need to sit and read my Bible and spend time with the Lord.
Today is a new day.
My toddler is rubbing up against my leg, playing triumphantly with both Little People girls on the desk next to me. She drops one under my foot, under the desk, and mumbles an incoherent question. I stop typing and reach down to retrieve the fallen toy. She giggles gleefully at the fact that I understand her request, though it was delivered in her almost-two-year-old dialect of gibberish.
Is today a new day?
Abby, covered over with the plush couch throw, calls to me from an empty diaper box, “Mommy come find me.” After calling several times, “Where’s Abby?” I go back to my keyboard, and Abby gives up on being found for the moment, helping her sister into the box. Now she is driving her sweaty little sister, who is surrounded by blankets inside the box, around the dining room floor.
Though it seems like an average, any-other-day type day, it is a new day.
This is the day the Lord hath made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it.
I will begin by spending it with Him so that I can spend it with them.
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