"Mommy, come watch me! Come watch me, Mommy. Come watch me!" he panted over and over with no breath in between.His cheeks were rosy and I could see a golden sweat-soaked lock peeking out from beneath his his fierce blue and black shark helmet.
"I'll be out there in a minute," I told him, trying to muster a little enthusiasm.But I didn't want to go out there in a minute. Didn't he know that this was Daddy's time to watch him and his big brother ride scooters and bikes and it was my time to clean the kitchen, listen to my soothing Holy Experience piano soundtrack, and enjoy that Jude was happily eating Cheerios and watching me wash dishes while securely strapped into his elephant booster seat?
But the third time Eli's sweet, persistent pleas echoed across the kitchen walls, the third time I grumbled to myself, I don't have time for this, I suddenly (thankfully) had a shift in perspective.
I don't have time to take my hands out of the dirty dish water so I can watch my beautiful boy? I don't have time to give this living piece of my heart a moment of my attention? I don't have time to put aside my charge toward productivity to cherish being present with my family?
I recently wrote about my desire to make my washing holy work. But sometimes following the Holy Spirit means stepping away from the washing to go and be with the ones waiting to be loved.