Extraordinary ordinary moments

You've heard the statement: The more you give, the more you get.

If you've ever volunteered or given from the heart, you know it's a true statement. Everyone knows my inability and my ineptitude of giving of myself because I've spoken ad nauseam how I struggle just to tuck the kids into bed. Why? Let's be honest, I hate prying myself away from anything that I am doing, even if that is sitting and breathing- to give my attention to anyone not me. Selfish - absolutely. Appalling - yep. Shameful - mmmhhmmm. Embarassing - sure is. I confess it in the little box I never sit in to the guy who's so familiar to me he knows my sins before I confess them and for some reason he never gets quite as weary of hearing it as I get of confessing it. Grace I'm sure. He's dealing with me so grace, for sure.

Anyway funny things happen with seemingly perpetual faults that I keep confessing and praying for and keep trying to avoid but fail miserably at. I have to call this a miracle because I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

The kids are going to bed - Are you going to tuck them in? Absolutely! So off I go to do the one thing I don't want to do and I sit with monkeyboy and we pray. We talk. I admire his room. I make him get back out of bed to brush his teeth. He's back in bed. I make him get back out of bed to floss. Then I notice Peach is not in her jammies so I ask her to get in jammies. Get the boy back in bed, we talk. What are you thankful for today buddy? - the usual, family and friends. I bless him and go to talk to the Peach who is still not in jammies. Ok, let's take care of that. Sweetie, did you brush your teeth? - ok off you go. I use the intermission to pick up her room a little. Finish the whole jammie experience and then we talk about her day, what went well, where were the epic fails, what do we want to ask Jesus for most today and such. After this dissertation we do a little prayer, a little kiss and a little hugging. Nothing special but everything extraordinary.

Later, when I asked Jesus where he was that day, I saw he was right there in my arms being kissed, hugged, learning how to pray, learning when to brush. He was in the ordinary and that is precisely what made it extraordinary. I didn't see it at the time. Why do we never notice the miracles when they happen? You see I didn't realize at the time how much joy there was in the  buttoning of the jammies, the folding of the clothes, the intimate time spent together with the kids. I didn't notice the inconvenience to my 'whatever it was that didn't matter that I was doing' beforehand. All I noticed was the joy and peacefulness (yes even in the protestations of teeth brushing) of those extraordinary ordinary moments.