I am nursing Hal to sleep on a mattress on my bedroom floor while I listen to everyone else enjoying their last few minutes together before bed. Sometimes I’m jealous of the freedom that Brad gets to parent with, untethered to little ones needs in the same way that I, the provider of milk, am. But then I am also thankful for the rest, the quiet time spent in my bedroom after a full day.
I wish I was better at spending those quiet moments well, but often I succumb to mindless scrolling. Tonight I decided I had better blog on my phone notes because I may not remember to get to it later when I’m near my computer. I’ve been intending to do a lot of things that I just forget about because our days are filled up right now. Nearly every day I intend to feed my sourdough starter at an appropriate time so I can mix bread up before bed, but it’s too late by the time I remember. I love fresh bread but it’s been weeks since we’ve had it.
Something that’s been on my mind this evening is how do I truly and wholeheartedly make my life an act of worship to God? How do I live a life of abandon to my creator? What does that look like, feel like?
Do I have to always feel a “connection” for it to be worship? Or is the simple act of saying “all praise it you Jesus” enough?
Do I have to always feel it to worship? I don’t think so. Or maybe I hope not. Because sometimes I’m truly just going through the motions but the Spirit still meets me there.
The more I understand, the less I understand. Just another one of Gods beautiful paradoxes. Paradox is what keeps us on our toes, and I’m grateful for those opportunities to press in and keep asking questions. When I run out of questions I had better be dead, because I will never fully figure understand God, even after living an entire lifetime with Him by my side.