The Eternity of a Moment

 It's been a rough day. 

My darling husband took the cord and the battery of my current idol (this dear computer) with him to work today.

I asked him to take it.

I lack self-control.

It was a busy day. I called my dad on his birthday. I finished two diaper and though they don't fit correctly (yet) and one wicks moisture like crazy, I have learned much.  I made dinner.  I made pear, and acorn squash, and butternut squash baby food.  I got the girls to take at least one nap longer than 30 minutes.  I cleaned poopy diaper blowout and managed to go to a playdate even though I was late.  My living room now only looks like a minor storm went through rather than a huge hurricane. I had a hot meal mostly on the table when hubby returned and both girls were fed their dinner prior to his arrival.

Doesn't that list look so nice and tidy?

I wish my heart was tidy.

For through it all my heart vomited in such a wicked attitude. 

The nap they took in the car, ruined my ideal afternoon. They fussed and grumped and I was so glad to put them in bed this evening and just have peace.

Solitude and my computer.

An hour after they were put to bed, they awoke.  We fed them and put them back in bed. They erupted in screams of pain. 

Their arch-nemesis gas came for a poorly timed visit.


After the gas packed up and left, I looked down at my normally serious daughter Aeralind...

and she laughed.  She laughed and grinned and smiled as I told her that she was beautiful and I loved her more than peanut butter loves jelly and more than tuna loves mayo and more that ham loves cheese and more than bacon loves lettuce/tomato... 

and she laughed some more

and grinned her rarely seen smile.

Had I forgotten so soon what matters?

Had I forgotten the Eternity in these Moments?

Had I forgotten that these tiny hearts like my own are eternal, priceless, and the central things?

Oh, wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from this body of death? (Romans 7:24)

And the answer is so visible here in this season.

I bow my heart before the Cross and beg for it to be made anew.

344. Repentance
345. A Patient God
346. Hearts that change (though the change is ever so slow)