My Son Just Ran into the Men's Bathroom at Walmart Days.

I’m not a quitter, but my feet are weary of this race. When something as simple as managing the inventory of toilet paper makes me want to cry—because there is always just so much to do and keep track of, because I never can win, because I am always behind, well, it makes me want to quit. Unlike some, I actually don’t want to be in charge. Right now, I just want to be still. 

I drove home last night after a long day of unexpected errands with four kids, one small boy of them able to make an amazing amount of trouble along the way. My feet were tired of chasing, arms tired of holding, ears tired of listening to screaming. (Why is being still so awful to that boy!?) And there was much more to be done at home before sleep could happen. The Lord saw me. He knew. He knew I was the mom whose son either ran away from her, or screamed across the whole store, turning heads if strapped into the cart. He knew that the moment I unloaded the cart to pay, that boy hid behind the cashier’s counter, smiling while we all searched for him. He saw my boy run into the men’s bathroom at Walmart, watched me freeze at the door. (There was a moral dilemma with that.) He knew that I was overwhelmed with even the little things yesterday. He heard me oath  not go out in public with him again for a very- long- time.

And then on the drive home, a beautiful owl, with a huge empowering wing span flew down from the skies hovered just a couple of feet from my window, breathtaking. And then around the bend, two baby dear, their mother not far off, grazing beside the road, watching my slowed van with their large round eyes, as we all watched them. And turning home, past the blue lake, it was still and beautiful with a sunset above it, the lake, still only a few times a year. I love when it looks like that. And He knows it. His love was not hidden, but seen.

And so as I contemplate that this day will be as busy as last, I know that I am really not alone. And if I look, I will see His love today too. And it’s kind of exciting to wonder how and where. And when I called out to Jehovah Ezer (God is my help) this morning, He answered before my feet even hit the ground. And that’s where the answers come from anyhow. My hearing is best when I am on my knees. He exchanges my helplessness, my weakness for His strength. But You have to ask for it. And unlike this mama at the stores, cringing at all they asked for—God is much more benevolent.

His answer was a whisper: I’m not asking you to be the head of your household; just to be the servant, My servant. I’ll take care of the house. And I’ll take care of you.

Phew! This was a good answer for a girl who likes to serve, and doesn’t like the pressure of running things. I am afraid to fail. And one of these days we probably will run out of toilet paper. Again. But if I’m serving Him, the weight of the world doesn’t rest on my shoulders, but on His. And He’s got really big shoulders. And to a take-carer-of-everybody, it is really good to be taken care of.  

He encouraged me not to give up either:

Hebrews 6:10-20  “For God is not unrighteous to forget your work and

labour of love, which ye have shewed toward his name, in that ye have

ministered to the saints, and do minister. And we desire that every one of you do

shew the same diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end: That ye

be not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience

inherit the promises… Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both

sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil; Whither the

forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever… “

Lord, may my footsteps today be like setting my feet in your snow tracks. Be the "anchor of my 

soul." May I look to Your strength, rest in Your plans. May I just serve, looking to Your will, letting

You call the shots. You never fail.

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