It hasn't been the best morning. I'll spare you the details.

Surprising, huh.

If you ask me later, I'll probably tell you.

 

It's been one of those mornings where I wonder if I'll ever be a good housekeeper. Or a mom who remembers to make eye, hair and dental appointments. Or a cook who hears the whole table say "Mmm!", instead of sympathetic words like "That's ok....I like my chicken dry". (Unfortunately I'm not making this up.)

My morning, like so many mornings, and afternoons....and evenings..and midnights was pity-FULL.

I'm never a great housekeeper. Those responsibilities that other people seem to know to do, I'm not aware of. I find out about those things along the way; like the time a friend mentioned how long it had been since she cleaned the ceiling fan or the time my mother-in-law mentioned cleaning her baseboards.

People do that?

And that's just the housecleaning stuff.  I'm quite inadequate seeming in other areas. I've considered asking my thirteen year old exactly how I'm supposed to apply eyeshadow.

Anyway. This morning I was vacuuming the stairs; a chore I most hate. It's one of those hand held vacuum things that I carry that has an extending (always in the way) suction arm. Vacuuming the stairs hurts my back. And frankly, it boggles my mind. How do those tiny feathers of unknown origin and tufts of hair find their way to the staircase? And how long have they been there?

To make a despised chore worse, the vacuum has had poor suction. I find myself scattering the contents instead of sucking them up; having to be satisfied with merely rearranging the untidiness and making the carpet look at least look brushed.

 

My "suck it up" hasn't been working lately.

This morning I had a brilliant idea though. I decided that like all other vacuums, this hand-held model must have a bag that needs to be replaced. It HAS felt heavier the last few go rounds. I boldly took the little machine apart and found a bag bursting at the seams.

Giving no heed to the sign on the bag that said "DO NOT REUSE BAG", I  leaned over the garbage sack and began to empty the contents of the burdensome, soil-filled bag.

I'm still in shock at the amount it held.

Kind of like the amount of junk I hold.

I started out the morning thinking about how I just don't get it done. In terms of "the things I need to do" as a mother, a wife, a growing Christian and even a friend, my list is a mile long.

And the end of that list is a moving target. Something is always being added. The things I want to do are unending. Who I want to be is always out of reach. That's when the unending cloud of dust and hair balls I dumped out were like magic sands.

 

For a moment I rested in conquered dust bunnies.

The heavy stuff appeared weightless as I let it all fall.

I didn't lament what's yet to be done. And I looked in victory at what had already been accomplished.  And honestly, I felt ready to face what lies before me.

 I assume this peace came through the process of emptying; getting rid of all the junk I'd been carrying in my effort to "do these things". When my dust-clouded vision cleared, I was reminded how very important it is that we empty ourselves. There is something more important than our busting at the seams list, more important than our seemingly lofty goals or our self-given report card.

I decided (AGAIN) that I want to be the woman who frees her toiling hands and empties her guilt-laden, overdriven heart.... to make room for weightless, beautiful grace.

I want to empty myself of all that I've done (good and bad). I want to let go of my ambitions "casting my burdens upon the Lord". Psalm 55:22 reminds me, that in doing so, he will sustain me; not a clean house or a glowing resume'. My nature lends me to live by the "suck it up" motto. And undoubtedly, there are things I must endure. My unreasonable goal of "doing it all", "BEING ALL" though, is one thing I can get rid of.

True story.