I mean, I'm just a little snippy this morning. Annoyed, maybe? Do you ever have days where you're just ... annoyed? Maybe not. Maybe it's just me. But there are days where I wake up and everything just kind of bothers me, for whatever reason, and today was one of those days.
Dishes. Laundry. Again. And again.
Lydia spilling Dad's cologne. Again.
Groceries being put away, food prep for the week getting finished, again. And again.
Me attempting a Pinterest dessert that ended up looking like a mutant giant slug.
And again and again and again.
These mundane tasks are usually something that I don't mind. I enjoy them, to some extent. Or, rather, I enjoy the sense of satisfaction when they are complete. Ahhh, DONE!
But, they aren't really done, because they will be there again tomorrow. And around and around we go.
As I was loading the darks into the washing machine, I could hear myself sighing. Do you know the sigh? The SIGGGHHHHH. The heavy one that is an obvious indication of discontent. And mid-sigh, I stopped myself. Why was I sighing? I stood up and looked around. Why was I so grumpy this morning?
Everything in my house is the same. The laundry room is the same, the kitchen is the same, my tasks and chores are all the same.
The problem, then, became blaringly obvious: ME.
I AM THE PROBLEM.
On my phone's lock screen, I have this verse:
Let the morning bring me word
of Your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in You.
Show me the way I should go,
for to You I lift up my soul.
It became clear to me that my morning was, in most ways, the same as it always is. But amidst the getting dressed and the grocery shopping and the food prepping and the scrubbing yogurt out of the kitchen chairs, I hadn't once paused to thank God for the day. To seek His guidance, to experience the joy of placing the day in His hands.
Of course this pause is not a guarantee that anything in my day will go well, at all. But in that still moment, my attitude is prepared for both the expected and the unexpected. And I find myself immersed in the reality of a Greater Purpose, the realization that the mundane is necessary and good. And that this day, like all of the days, will slip away soon and I won't get it back.
And dang it, I can at least try to suck it up and have a good attitude.
So, even now as my baby, lightly scented in Acqua di Gio, is climbing in my lap and impairing my ability to type, I say to all of you, this is the day that the Lord has made.
And I will rejoice, and be glad in it.