all the little things

Six kids fed, three off to school, three about their chores, baby still in her crib thanks to a 5 am feeding, I sat, just for a morning minute. I was wondering all the things to the Lord as my brain wakes up, and He quietly reminded me that it matters.

He understands my question.  Why I would wonder.  Why I'm asking.

While we brush our teeth this morning, Matt tells me about the cabinet meetings, preaching and conversations on the docket for today. His list is far more impressive than mine. Neighbors and friends stop me to tell me about his Bible study...his book, his teaching, always amazed at how the Lord has gifted him to take the Word and package and deliver it in a way that their youth....their Sunday school class...their great-grandpa understands. But still, sometimes he wonders if it matters too. 

Struggles in the bonus-girlie world make all the days and months of investment seem like it might not matter. Is it making any difference? Is it going to? Never before have I been a part of such a full-heart-costing, time-consuming, helpless, powerless ministry. We can love. We stand over precious ones at great expense. But we call no shots. We influence no decisions. We make no plans. Are we even making a difference?

My girls and boy, all, I love fiercely and disciple full-time. They don't often appreciate it, or even want what it looks like. I am a safe and steady place for all their drama, all their awkward, all their frustration, all their fears, all their tantrums, all their moods, all their heart-breaks. They meditate on every mistake and rapidly forget every glory. They take every ounce, from baby to teens, and rarely are grateful or seek to give back. They are, in so many ways, exactly the way I remember being. 

Aunt Sharon is here. I needed her to be. She reminds me how it matters. She reminds me what doesn't. She watches and waits and loves on everyone and when it's time, she reminds me. Having her alongside for a few moments fills me up.

I asked Him this morning in yesterdays clothes if my unglamorous life and chauffeur schedule is even making a difference.

He didn't say.

Just that it matters.

So.

If it matters to Him, I guess none of it is wasted on eye-rolls and court orders and midnight wails. And if the work matters, the worker must, too.