It happened in the kitchen.
Around a skillet of cheesy eggs and another one full of turkey bacon. Breakfast for dinner only happens when Daddy is home late from work.
Everything else in my life has been calling so loudly. The children’s homework. The house that does not clean itself. The laundry baskets and Christmas planning, the holiday parties that need wrapped hostess gifts and the school programs. The other for-pay jobs I do each day even when I don’t have time.
The details. Oh, the details that keep us crawling to the finish line of Christmas.
It all screams so big and loud so that even my own brain cannot fix itself on anything for more than a moment.
And I must write. I must. Not for my blog or my {unwritten} book or for anyone else. But for my own sanity.
But there hasn’t been a stitch of time. Each stolen minute is filled with the loud calls from everything else in my life and one needs quiet to create, right?
I sat for an hour with a blinking cursor while I answered everyone else’s calls except the ones that would calm the urgency inside.
So tonight I lost all sense of adulthood and advent and crumpled once again into a folded mess of a cardigan, jeans and boots in the dining room.
It was then I decided that breakfast for dinner was just as good as anything.
I asked the eleven-year-old to make the eggs and the seven-year-old to empty the dishwasher. And they sensed I was needy. I’d already apologized forty-five thousand times in the last hour.
So they obeyed with wide, empathetic eyes.
I pulled the bacon out of the refrigerator and retrieved the skillets from where I’d hidden them inside the oven.
“Maybe you need a few minutes by yourself, Mama.” The oldest said as she swept crumbs from the counter. “I can make dinner.” My heart. My grief at my own brokenness. My whole spirit begging not to be a failure as a mother.
It was all that it took to break my sense of urgency and mania.
“No. Let’s do it together.” Burners on. Skillets hot. Bacon dropped onto the heat. And we moved in the kitchen together. All three of us, two generations of sensitivity and womanhood and youth as we worked together to create a simple meal.
She beat the eggs. “Like this, Mama?”
She used a fork instead of a whisk.
“Yes, now add a bit of milk.”
The seven-year-old found a step stool to reach the high cabinet. She put the glasses away while her little voice sang a happy song she’d heard on the way to school this morning.
“The princess and the frog…” she sang while her sister poured eggs into the skillet.
There was peace in the making, in the creating and even in the working tonight, beauty in the simplicity of a meal made and a meal eaten together. There was redemption in the whisking of yolk and white and in the sizzling of meat on a stovetop. There was grace in the teaching and in the praise and in the song.
And these girls teach me over and over again what it means to be a woman. They teach me over and over again what grace with hands and feet look like. And they teach me the quiet in the heart of a Sabbath Savior that loves to meet us when we are weak.
{adapted from my original post here}
Leave a Comment
Amanda says
Letting go and letting God allow you to find peace in the simple tasks. Just beautiful!
Bev Duncan @ Walking Well With God says
Sarah,
It is so like God to bring us peace amidst the chaos, and so often he does it through our/His children. What better harbinger of peace than a simple offer, “I can make dinner” from your daughter. Not so unlike Jesus’ invitation to us to give Him our burdens…and then peace.
Beautiful!
Blessings,
Bev
karyn says
indeed
🙂
Bobbie says
And a little child shall lead them…. Just beautiful. Womanhood and motherhood – what a blessing!
Amber says
Oh this just touched my heart. You could’ve been taking a video from our kitchen any number of nights. We’ve got 9 & 7 yr old girls (plus a baby boy) and bless their hearts when they sweetly volunteer to help when you need it the most. When Daddy’s late & you’re all out and leaning hard on the spirit for strength. Aah… Thank you for sharing.
Lu says
Good Morning, Sarah,
The timing of your post is perfect.
Lol, I’d just finished writing out my “list” of things that must be accomplished today AND this next week……..and had just quietly asked myself, in an e-mail to a friend: How would I find ways to live in the rhythm of the moment thru the week, enjoying the journey, rather than being overwhelmed with the magnitude of the list and things that needed to be done? (Dr’s appointments during a Holiday month should be outlawed, Lol)
I’m so glad you and your girls were able to embrace the moment and relax into the rhythm of being together.
May I move forth and do likewise, grin.
And may we all pause and make room for such Holy moments.
Much Love & Warm support flowing your way from a wee lil next in Georgia
Trudy says
Thanks for sharing this sweet story, Sarah. Children are such precious gifts. 🙂 It’s so beautiful that your girls were so empathetic. Even though your hectic schedule sometimes overwhelms you, I believe you have done a wonderful job as a mom. 🙂
Crystal Walton says
*Tears* Love this, Sarah. Few things are sweeter than the tender grace of a moment God uses to bring redemption to our drained hearts. Such a precious reminder to all of us in the chaos of a busy season.
Michele says
It is so awesome when God pulls us away from the “urgent” and puts us smack-dab in the middle of “important,” isn’t it? That time with the girls in the kitchen, being together, working together, simplicity… oh, so very sweet… and they will remember that sweetness for the rest of their lives.
Diana Trautwein says
Lovely, Sarah. Thank you. It’s good for our children to know we’re human, that we have limits. And it’s doubly good when they’re sensitive enough to step in and work beside us when the tough times hit us.
emily says
Wonderful, Sarah. It made an impression on me that you stayed and helped even though they could have handled it. If I get a hot second to get away, I take it believing that’s the only way I can recover. I appreciate knowing I could stick around and still recover my sanity. Thank you for your words.
JoniG. says
I felt my need evaporate with your words. Thank you, Sarah.
Patty Muich says
You make me want to go back to my children’s childhood. Beautiful…
Love, Patty
Jeanne Gabrielle Bowser says
It’s those simple moments that keep us humble and needy for Him and each other.
Andrea says
Thank you! I have certainly bit off more than I can chew lately and I understand. Today is no exception! So I will walk in prayer and keep your story tucked into my pocket and know I am not alone. Ever. And there is understanding not just from another women in the same color shoes…….thank you!
Keri says
oh my this post was just wonderful! I felt like I was right there in the kitchen with you all making breakfast-for-dinner, i felt invited to the gathering of sisterhood generations past, present, and future. It was so beautiful! I love it when you write entries like this, they are my absolute favorite because I am in the story, living it, feeling it, right along with you.
Beth Williams says
Such a sweet sweet post!! It’s awesome that you have 2 young girls who know when mama needs help and are ready to pitch in.
From late November through December people have a ton of activities to attend. They are good activities-school parties & plays for children. Christmas dinner/plays at church. With all these activities getting our attention, plus the daily grind of life-it’s easy to get distracted, tired and lose sight of the true meaning of Christmas. It’s hard to make time for advent minutes each night to share with the young ones.
Praying for more peace in everyone’s life this December! God bless!
Beth Williams says
Sarah,
You have raised two beautiful girls. It was super nice of you to stay and help them. You all will remember and treasure these times together more than you know!
Marcy says
Yes! There was breakfast for dinner here for the same reasons las week and grilled cheese last night and my gift to myself this month may be simple dinners in favor of peace with my peeps. Thanks for this encouragement!