I was asked this question by a “working” woman and I didn’t answer. I knew she didn’t have time.
But I’m going to give it a try, as it’s early still, and by day’s end I’ll have done so much I won’t recall it all.
I awoke around 6:00, thinking of yesterday’s blessings and thinking of God. I “slept in” until 6:20, which is 7:20 in Texas. After a quick face wash teeth brushing, it was time to pull on my warm robe and to call my daughter, who was on her way to class at Kenneth Copeland Bible College, and to thank her for sending to me some of her class notes on prayer, as well as a lovely scripture.
She was, as always, happy to hear my voice. I shared devotionals with her, and talked about revelations from the day before, what was on her agenda, and then prayed with her before she left her car and started her classes.
It was then time for my early morning “encouragement cuddle” with John, which he seems to think is necessary to give him strength to get out of the warm and cozy covers. Next came the fun job of picking warm clothes for this bright and chilly Rocky Mountain day – black jeans and thick black socks with a black, pink, and blue plaid Betsy Johnson flannel shirt (nice and long and flattering).
This accomplished I returned to my Quiet Time with God, listening first to Joel Osteen’s timely words which were direct answers to questions I had about a few of my endeavors, including writing.
I went from Joel to Audrey Mack, whose thoughts about the joining of the Spirit and the Word gave me more prayer fodder. And somewhere in there the complicated became simple, and I knew exactly how to solve a writing problem that had been vexing me for some time.
Wow, wow, wow. I didn’t waste time. I wrote. An entire chapter.
I then awoke Seth with a coffee promise, put the heavy whipping cream into a warmed Mary Engelbreit cream jug, heated cups and put on the percolator. Such a joy, the soon gurgling coffee rising up and showing off through the glass atop the percolator.
John had already told me he didn’t want breakfast (we ate late last night), so I talked food talk with Seth as we satisfied our tummies with very creamy coffee. We also covered a bit of history – things like the amazing tonnage of steel the US produced in peacetime Depression years, when various automakers went from steel to aluminum, then “after-market” work on less than stellar truck engines, and finally, comparisons of 20th-century world dictators.
Next we went through the fridge freezer and found nothing for lasagne, which Seth thinks is the thing for dinner tonight. He took off to my writing cabin, where there’s a freezer full of meat (he is very fond of coming home with sausages, bacon, deer, and various other treasures).
Somewhere in all this I wrote a letter to our son, Benjamin, who is overseas in the Military, and tucked it into a card. John found a lovely verse to add (Psalm 139:9-10 NIV) and Seth added a couple of words as well.
We will make a special trip to the post office soon to mail this along with a letter to a loved one in prison, and I’m about to write a short letter to Rebekah, as well. Don’t we all love to get real mail?
Sending real mail is one of the lost arts of this age of “working” women, but I am determined to do my part to keep it alive. That’s what homemaking is about, keeping the worthwhile alive. That’s what home is: Life.
“What do you do?” she asked, truly curious about how I spend my time.
So far this morning I have also washed the sheets and a white blanket, and put in a load of jeans and dark T-shirts. I have resisted the urge to fold the whites done last night, as there are major things I want to get to today, and I can fold the whites later, perhaps when my daughter Jane calls me back (I called her as well this morning, but she was at work early and couldn’t talk).
Back to the utility room: Ignoring the whites, I filled a pot with hot water, vinegar, and a little bit of Dawn, because I’m about to scrub the trim and railing in the stairwell, as it is high time it was painted to match the trim at the top and at the bottom of the stairs.
My first plan for today was to deal with apples. I have a big box completely full (given to me yesterday at church) that I plan to turn into apple sauce, pie fixins, etc., but that will wait until afternoon. The stairs must be done first, while the motivation to scrub is living (which is why I must stop blogging – I have already written a blog post this morning about homeschooling!).
I am no doubt leaving things out – like the skimming of a magazine, straightening the living room, sweeping under the table, and in the foyer, checking mousetraps, the underlining of a favorite verse in The Passion Bible, with a mental note to share it with Hannah, the daughter who gave me this Bible for Christmas last year.
I hear the truck – Seth has returned. It’s time to do something.
Praise the Lord, first of all, for the endlessly rewarding, challenging, and beautiful gift of Home.
Blessings all over you, Dear Reader!
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