This too

I read a devotional a few days ago that has lingered in my mind... I've titled my blog "Seasons of Life" for those that follow me to get a glimpse into the Season of Life I'm in.  Currently I'm in the season of figuring out how to juggle my time between being a homemaker, wife, mommy and most importantly child of God.  Here's the deal though, I'm a creature of habit, a structured "freak" if you will.  I've even got my 10 month old on a regimented schedule of his own and he does quite well.  However, I've found that my perfect little schedule doesn't work with every season of life.  That brings me to the devotion I read:

This too

What activities in life are holy? Webster defines holy as, “exalted, divine, devoted entirely to deity or the work of deity.”

What activities in life qualify as worship? Webster defines worship as, “reverence offered a divine being.”

Is being a pastor more holy than being a parent? Is singing more worshipful than serving?

I do not think so.

Our motivations can make the simplest task holy or the most impressive deed dead. Our attitudes can make the smallest act worship or the grandest offering bankrupt.

This is cause for celebration for the sincere in heart: every season of life is overflowing with potential to live a holy, worshipful existence.

When I was single, solitude was holy.

When newly married, two-now-one was worship.

When I became a mother, life together was both.

Even this morning, I was reminded of how pleased Father God is when we offer him our ordinary moments. Baby Louie is our family alarm clock. He wakes up, rain or shine, at 6:30 a.m. Eventually, all three children climb in bed with us.

Keona normally comes in first, carrying her pillow and wedging herself between Barry and me. She snuggles close, and I breathe in the refreshing scent of her peppermint hair cream. Then Jonathan emerges sleepily from his room, says “Morning!” and goes to the restroom. Crawling into our bed, he closes his eyes as I kiss his warm porcelain cheek and shake my head remembering how he used to fit in my hands.

The next ten to thirty minutes are filled with quiet cuddles and questions about life. When wiggly baby Louie joins us, we all become fences around the queen bed’s perimeter to keep him from bouncing off.

Before entering parenthood, Barry and I would always get up and offer the first part of our day to God through songs, walks, extended readings, and quiet times. Today I gazed into the eyes of my loving kids, touched their soft faces, and smiled as I looked at the clock.

My Bible, journal, piano would still be waiting for me later in the day. But I knew that Father God was smiling over these morning moments as well. I could almost hear God whisper as I hugged and loved on his kids:

“Ah, this too is holy. This too is worship.”

It made me realize that although my house is not always as clean as I'd like it, my prayer time isn't as long as I want it to be, my day is not as structured as I wished that it was, it's in those moments of playing with Mack, singing and being silly, reading a book, teaching him about God and life that God says, "Ah, this too is holy.  This too is worship."