For some reason I can't explain, I can't sleep in on Saturdays anymore. All week I have to drag myself out of bed just to get the kids off to school and work on time, but not the weekend...oh no! I'm bright eyed and bushy tailed at 4 AM. Figures.

I'd love to be the Proverbs 31 woman who rises before her household and makes an amazing breakfast and has everybody's clothes ironed before the the sun rises, but I've inherited the lazy gene that compels the children to eat cold cereal in a cup in the car as we speed away in wrinkled school uniforms. Saturday is another story, still no amazing breakfast and no ironed clothes, but who needs perfectly pressed to run around outside and roll in the dirt anyway?

The uniqueness of this particular Saturday is that all my beautiful babies, except little man up in his crib, are snuggled in close to each other in the living room. For one breathless moment all is right for me as I gaze at my fruit and say it is good. No one fighting, or making messes, or needing advice, just resting, looking like little perfect angels and they're all mine..for now. God gave them to me for a time, and I'm trying my best to do this thing right, and if it takes me being an insomniac on the weekends for God to be able to bring it all into perspective again, so be it.

That's my Sabbath rest, that all my week's pursuits, trying to get this house to the place its supposed to be, with all of its inhabitants following hard after God day after day after day, that it all matters. It matters! Even when the house isn't perfectly clean, and somebody has a cavity, and it seems like its all mundane and cyclical and matters. They matter, I matter, and He is so worth it.


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