It was perfect.

I pushed my chair back and surveyed the damages.
Supper was over, but the table was heavy with smeared dishes and food the needed to be put away. Daniel has multiple tests and chapters to read before the weekend.
“There is no way I’ll have time to get them all done,” he had told me earlier.


“Can we go outside and …?” The nine year old made a throwing motion.
Somehow the tossing sign must be more powerful than just straight out asking.

He didn’t have time. We both knew it.
But Daniel nodded, “Yeah! You coming?” he asked, looking my way.
The dishes screamed at me. But he knew I needed to pause and grab the moment.
I nodded.


All day long the tractor had gone around and around the field, the cut hay tossed into neat rows and then bundled into round bales. The sweet smell mingled with the golden evening light lured us into the clean goodness. The guys threw the frisbee back and forth, and I marveled at the fluid motions of both throwing and catching.
When did that nine year old learn to throw like that?

DSC03928 (1)

The girls raced around the bales and threw left over bits into the air.
Hair and hay were everywhere, faces dirty but happy.
Daniel looked over at me. “It’s perfect.
The evening could not be more perfect.”

I looked around. The golden light illuminating crazy hair, the squeals of laughter from carefree children, the busy daddy taking time for his children.
I was the only mess here.
My mind still saw the messy table and sink of dishes.
My heart still felt bruised from a less than seamless school day.

My to do lists never end, and I grapple with doing all things well and yet never getting done. Mommy guilt over not menu planning, bathroom cleaning, laundry doing or lesson planning a week ahead of time looms over my head.
There are just so many things I SHOULD be doing, and don’t reach around.


(Chicken pox are over now, and thankfully the marks are fading)

When God created the world, He did a perfect job.
He sat back at the end of each day and surveyed his perfect handiwork.
At the end of the week, he looked over the brand new earth, teaming with life and breath and color.
And He said, “It is good.”
Good. Everything was perfect.
Can you imagine?

Today this is part of the curse, the living in an imperfect world. Being in this world, but intended for another one. Mortality groaning for immortality. I gasp deep for air, and reach for God’s hand to guide me through the challenges of the day.

God looks down at me and loves me. He sees past the grime smeared on my face and hears the laughter. He sees me as His child, and loves me.

So hand your camera to your 7 year old, and let them capture today in its rawness. See what they see, and treasure it.

Today, in all our messes, are things to embrace. To treasure.

It WAS a perfect evening.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Linda Horst says:

    Ahhhh… You and I both struggle with this mommy thing of savoring the moment… and finding perfection in the imperfection. Thank you for the reminder to skip the good and choose the best!

  2. Bethany says:

    So, so beautiful. The thing that discourages me the most sometimes is knowing that tomorrow I’ll probably fall back into the same rut…. It’s a constant choice but that’s what life with Christ is all about, I suppose.

    1. danilissa says:

      Yes, and his grace is fresh and new for us again tomorrow. I am so very grateful for that!

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