the work can wait

Jan 21

I am by nature, someone who loves very much to be constantly accomplishing. I set goals, I love productivity, and yet there is also a part of me that loves the slow, loves the sitting, loves the watching, loves the pause. Monday’s are my full force days, I wake up in the wee hours of the morning, start my day by looking over my plans and conversing with God, and then moving forward with the speed of the freight train until my sweet Ellis wakes up. We have about two hours together, eating breakfast, getting ready for the day, and spending some one on one time together before the workload is ready to be picked up again with school and clients. 

Yet — there is a readjustment that needs to happen. 
And I will be gentle with myself since this weekend has not been like most, the weather ripped and roared, our church was canceled, the temperatures plummeted, and we lost power right before bed last night and again this morning. And by noon I was left feeling frustrated; and frustrated because the work needed to get done.

But there is a small boy who is no longer a baby begging for me to play, so the work can wait.

The work can wait.
The work should wait.
The work will wait.

Because, “the most important work that you will ever do will be the work you do within the walls of your own home.”, as stated so eloquently by Harold B. Lee.

And I’m not sure why productivity adds so much to my identity as a person, but I will be ruined if this notion gets in the way of my identity as a mother. 

So dear momma, the woman who works a job, or juggles school, or both, or neither, the woman who has loads of laundry that needs to be done, and emails that need to be gone through, the dishes that need to be put away, all of those things we do, can wait. 

Because that little person in the next room building towers out of blocks, and jumping on the couch will someday be building their first home at a college dorm, they will be building their dreams in a city maybe not so close to you, they will be jumping out of airplanes, and jumping towards the opportunities that make them feel alive. So, momma, the work can wait. Just slow down and soak it up. Be gentle. Read that book. Color that picture. Paint that sky. Dance to their favorite song, and sing it at the top of your lungs. Hold their little hand. Make their favorite meal. Snuggle on the couch. Play dress up. Let them fall asleep in your bed. Take the picture with them, no matter how tired you feel. Smile at them tenderheartedly and teach them what you know about kindness and dreams. This will be gone in the blink of an eye. The work can wait, because time dear momma, will not.