I walk into the room, tripping over a pair of hastily discarded tiny flip flops, with no small child in view I pick them up and turn to take them back to the front door. My eye catches a glass sitting on a table leaving water rings. Flip flops now in their place I pick up the glass, wiping the water away with my hand and head to the kitchen. Placing the glass in the sink, along with other dirty dishes I need to take care of then I notice several empty cartons ready to go to the recycle bin. I pick them up and head to the laundry room to deposit them in the bin and see the washing machine has finished its cycle. As I am transferring the dryer load out to put the wet load in I hear a piercing cry and two small hysterical girls come rushing into the house. “Mommy! She yelled at me!” – “No I didn’t” tears…
Half finished projects, half finished thoughts, burning calories by going in circles all day.
Then… the unthinkable happens… I Got Sick!! Everything goes on hold. A still small voice whispers to me, “You are not superwoman. You are not single handedly keeping your family happy and your house running smoothly. You are not in control” and I will admit a part of me said, “What?! Have you been watching? Have you seen all that I do everyday?!” But the other part of me, the part that has learned to listen to that still small voice, trust that voice, that part of me said, “oh, right. The world will still turn round without my constant input. My children will still be fed. My house won’t fall on our heads.”
Slowly I realize, there will always be a mess to cleanup, things to put away but there will not always be small children to play with and hold. There will always be need but I’m not always the answer.
Then that voice, that soft, painfully truthful, loving voice said, “You have worth, not because of what you do but because I made you.”
For whatever is true about who I am, at my core, as a human… must be true about everyone. For me, today is not part of my normal. I don’t wake up every single day and feel this bad. My cold will go away and I will return to my ‘normal’. For several of my friends that is their ‘normal’, to awaken each day in pain, to struggle to think through the fog, to see each trip out of the house as an ordeal. And yet, they have worth, they have value, and I cherish them. They, and I, have an intrinsic dignity of life. Who am I to believe I have earned that right.
Yahweh created me, made me in his own image, and gave me dignity. He knit me together, he knows when I sit and when I rise. If he cares for even the smallest sparrow and the weeds of the field then surely he cares for me. We are all held together in his will.
So my job today is to sit, drink lots of water, keep my tissues close and know that I am loved. I am known. I am cared for by the God who clothes the lilies of the valley.