Thankful through Exhaustion

On many occasions, when I am pondering motherhood, I become exhausted. Just thinking about it, I'm exhausted. 

It is not one sole act that leads to exhaustion. It's not the twenty thousand books we read a day, often, each one twice.

It is not the shoes left scattered in the yard. Not one pair, but three, that must be found in a difficult game of hide-and-seek before the coming storm.

And it certainly isn't the helpfulness of the toddler. The way she sweetly 'helps' make pancakes by creating a masterpiece of droplets of batter on the kitchen floor, followed by a proud proclamation of her accomplishments.

You see, it's the combination of everything the two-and-a-half year old darling does, on top of everything the ten month old needs.

Some days, if we're honest, it's just rather difficult.

Most days, if I am not consciously, actively, zealously looking for the good in the trenches of motherhood, I am pretty sure I'd overlook it altogether. But some days, those precious days, when both kids nap at the same time. When laundry has been folded and put away, dishes are clean, and I have approximately 30 minutes of quietness, I see it. I see the beauty as the toys lie motionless. The sound machine hums in the background, while my fingers hold fast to the chai tea steaming between them, and I smile. I smile as what I perceive as hectic, all fades away.

This leads me to my point.

This hectic moment, the days that pass quickly but seem to drag on forever, are supposed to be work, but this work, the work I am doing in my daughter's life, in my son's life, should be glorifying to the One Most Holy. Bringing him glory through the raising of my kids. 

You see, the shoes left strewn about the yard means there must have been playful, happy feet tromping over the grass just moments before. The pancake batter in puddles on the floor means there must have been a little girl wanting to be just like her momma, taking notes, and learning what life is all about, at the heels of the one who loves her most. The books, the thrill of reading, yearning to learn through imagination is what we all hope to inspire in our kids.

But how often do we see it that way? How often do we long for the messes to not happen, the shoes to just be put away, and the books to read themselves?

Perspective. Maybe I need a change in perspective. 

"In everything, give thanks, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:18

This is His will for me. 

My perspective should be with that focus. 

Motherhood. A fiesty two year old. A sweet son with spina bifida. There's a reason, and every hour, every minute, every moment of chaos, I must choose the perspective of joy. The perspective of thankfulness. The perspective of raising God-loving children by showing them how to love our Lord through every minute of craziness.

This is my prayer.