the laundry baskets taunt me

i don't know how working mothers do it. --working mothers whose homes do not look like they need to be on hoarders. the husband and i have no children, and yet, outside of my working hours, i can't seem to maintain some semblance of a well-cared for home. i brought the clean baskets of laundry into our bathroom with every intention of putting them up, yet, cleaning this, straightening that, showering, and etc. seemed to have gotten in the way and now, those clean baskets still sit in the bathroom, taunting me, whispering my failures to me, reminding me that i'm not a perfect wife, that i'm not meeting expectations (set by whom?), and that his parents would most certainly figure out that they were completely wrong for approving of me if they saw what a pitiful house keeper and laundry putter-upper i am.

i picture other homes kept by the wives with perfectly coifed hair wearing cute tory burch dresses under their monogrammed aprons, and vacuuming without stumble in their cute little pumps...these homes smell of freshly baked apple pies, counters set with freshly brewed sweet tea, and smudge-free windows. --that most certainly is not my home, or me. these baskets of yet-to-be-put-up laundry remind me of that.

i got off-course

     i forgot. and i lived my life striving to please man. i became burdened with ponderings of: "am i good enough," "am i measuring up," "have i let them down," "are they proud of me," "am i worth ______,". i found my self staring in the mirror, picking everything apart and making mental notes of what in my appearance needs improvement, what machine i need to hit up at the gym my next visit, and if i'm showing signs of aging. i hear constructive criticism at work, and am deeply wounded that i am not perfect and beyond having room for improvement. i see great success all around me, and sadden myself with a belief of mediocrity, allowing feelings of subparness to overcome me. i feel less than because others are not envious of me. and with that, i come face to face with the ugliness of pride that has become me. 

"For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ."--galatians 1:10

i had begun to serve man and my own desires above God. i had begun to strive so desperately to be accepted and envied by a world so lost and far from God. i had convinced myself that i was balancing the two: being superior and admired by the world, and growing in my pursuit of closeness to God. it's impossible though.  

matthew 6:24 says: "no one can serve two masters, for he will either hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. you cannot serve God and money (acceptance, validation, etc). 

boom. there it was. i switched sides. and it was surprisingly not that obvious to me. i knew i felt like i was drifting and that i wasn't as sharp in the Word as i had been; but i'm not sure that i understood that i had so drastically switched my intent focus until now.  the surprising thing is this: it's been a gentle realization. the beautiful quality of the Shepard is this: He gently calls us back to Him, He gently restores us to His pasture. He called me back with a spirit of hope and a spirit of joy. He changed my eyes focus with the enticing unmatched beauty of His Kingdom while opening my eyes to the overcast and dreary world apart from Him. 

He is a loving bridegroom. always waiting for us with eager anticipation. and when we wander or plead for a different bridegroom to whisper sweet words of romance in our ears, He is patient for our return, and embraces us with the most comforting, gentle, and loving embrace beyond what we have known. and we are invited to continue to walk with Him in this, seeking first His Kingdom and planting our identify firmly in Him. 

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.--romans 6:4