I don't know what I'm doing.

I don't know what I'm doing.

My days are, as I have said before, always the same and never the same.

I wake up and it's like Groundhog Day. Nursing, feeding, diaper changing, cartoon selecting, dressing and wiping down of all the sticky. all. the. sticky. all of it. 

Jake never fails. As soon as the last bite of breakfast is swallowed, he's asking me to get down his cars.
Chamblee is my slow eater. So we have some girl time together at the table. And, as her last chug of milk is gone, her little pencil thin white mustache is asking me what kind of art she can do today. "Get out my crayons, please! No, markers! No, glue and glitter!" So out they all come.
I don't bother with newspapering the table first anymore.
My little Craigslist kitchen table is stained with paint, stickers, glitter and hardened food that I managed not to clean up in time.
I'm convinced that it has never seen better days. 

It's our routine, our safe place. I clean up and wipe more sticky and get a load of laundry going or nurse my teething baby for the next hour or two. I might get two sips of tea in before I have to microwave it again. I digress. 

I parent day by day. moment by moment.
None of my children are alike. They all need something different at every different click of the clock. I don't have a plan. I don't have a guideline. And I don't know what I'm doing.

Here's what I know. I know that what I am doing is my best. And like the days of my children, my days are all different. Some of my days are easy. I feel like I have this ship under control. Hey, I'm really doing a great job! Some of my days are embarrassing, and the way that I manage my home is bewildering. Oh, the horror if anyone knew I just snapped at my kids that way. I am unfit. 

Then, when there is quiet, I've recently been hearing an almost audible voice.
"What are you doing?" 
And, for a while, I thought this voice was me.
Harping on my failures as a mom. a wife. a friend.

But hey. It's not.
That voice is the Holy Spirit. Asking me. Point blank. Straight to the heart. Just my style.
Or maybe my guardian angel. I don't know much about those. 
Or maybe it's Jesus, himself. 

Anyway. It's been asking.
And for a while I thought it was asking about my parenting.
Because being a mom is my life. And what else would it be asking about?
And here's the answer I'd been giving:
"I'm raising my kids. I'm loving them. I'm guiding them. I'm showing them how to love others. I'm teaching them about Jesus. I'm praying with them. Playing with them. I'm being present. I'm doing the best that I can."

Next, I'd tell myself that that is enough.
And also, I'd tell my mom friends this.
I have been thinking that this is great advice.
"What you are doing is enough!" 
And it might be. But it might not.

As it turns out, this voice wasn't asking me, "What are you doing, you idiot mother?"
But instead, "What are you doing.....for the Kingdom?"
And then, I had no answer.

I mean, does He really expect to give me all of these beautiful children and still have quiet time? 
Yeah, right. He knows. I'll come around in a few years. 

Oh my word I cringe to even write that.

But it's true. I have been justifying my lack of discipleship with my children. Wait, what?
That is kind of backwards sinful, huh?

And sure, I'm discipling my children.
I'm serving them.
I'm loving them.
But I know He has called me to do more.
And ignoring that and not cultivating that is wrong.
It's a cop out. And it's real that I've been ducking out.

I don't know what I'm doing for the Kingdom.
But I know it's not been my best.

I'm working on that.

Until Next Time,
The Guff