I was vacuuming up dog hair and didn’t hear the knock on the door at first. I opened it to find my friend and her young son standing on the porch. Her little boy was holding a giant chocolate bar. He raised it up toward me as if to say, “For Barb.”
I love that my friend is teaching her son to give females chocolate at a young age. He’ll be thankful for that later on.
It’s good to show them everyday, but I recently started spending time with this little boy. When I see him, I lift him up in my arms and love on him. Just holding him and listening to him talk, shows him Barb loves him.
Eventually, he wiggles out of my arms and goes to his Mom because she has always been there for him. It’s not the amount of love we give someone, it’s just that we give. Similar to other things in life, once we stop, it’s easier to stay stopped.
Sunday mornings feel good. It’s the day I look back at what’s been accomplished for the week. A good bit got done, but there’s more to do.
This week I worked on my bedroom.
It had become a place to sleep and not a place to dwell. I was laying in bed one night and all I could think about was what was under my bed.
When was the last time I looked under my bed? What was being stored there? When was the last time it was thoroughly cleaned?
The next morning, I found the answers.
My daughter had a guitar case and a couple of plastic bins of clothing under my bed. She has a platform bed and cannot store anything underneath, so I offered my space. It was a collection of dust and dog hair under there, so this had to change. The top of her wardrobe was empty, so I placed the bins up there. The guitar case is by the back door awaiting storage.
I moved the bed to another location in the room and cleaned the floor during it’s move.
Also, as I was laying in bed that night, I found myself staring at an empty wall wondering what time it was. I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the bedside table, but the light hurt my eyes. I wanted a clock on that wall.
“Go big, or go home,” is my thinking.
I see God working in the details of my life.
The really good stuff is in the details my darling, and sometimes that begins by looking under the bed.
I hadn’t pulled all the way into my side of the driveway. My daughter was with me at the time and I was trying to leave her extra room to get out of the truck. The tree branches are taking over. We forgot it was sitting there when she backed out the following morning. 😦
She was upset, but I wasn’t bothered. It hurt her Jeep more than my truck. Her Jeep is relatively new, and Steve, (my truck) is ten years old.
Walking through the house this morning I noticed it’s time to vacuum. I’m pretty sure I just did a couple of days ago. Big white dog is shedding like a mad dog, but you know what?
He’s worth every hair I walk through.
I’ve dropped the ball on a few things this week, but I’m living. Just living life through the bumps, scrapes and vacuum bag full of dog hair.
A few days later, my daughter still felt guilty for backing into my truck. I told her, “I love you more than Steve.” She gasped and asked, “Was that ever in question?” We both laughed, but there was a day, when she was small, that I wouldn’t have driven him until he was fixed.