Hopeful Homemaker

The house is supposed to be quiet right now.  Tomorrow is the first day of school for four of my children.  I know they’re tired; if they’d just hold still long enough they’d all fall asleep within two minutes.   Instead I hear muffled voices and the padding of feet in the hallway.  Funny how you don’t fall asleep when you’re sneaking around.   My heart is full but I must be brief.  Moms need a good night’s rest before the first day of school too.

I hardly know what to say.  There are so many little things about the week.  Another soccer tournament, a sweet dance class two of my daughters participated in, an impromptu party for a bunch of teenagers.  There was shopping for school supplies {see, I did it}, cleaning, moving some furniture around, work in the storage room.  A wedding last night provided an opportunity for service, new friendships, and a brief conversation with a wise old gentleman that brought tears to my eyes.  For some reason I saw many people this week who are hurting:  some whose pain is so visible and others whose pain lies behind a perfectly normal exterior.  I am reminded how life wounds all of us at different times and in different ways, but it is all calculated to stretch us, humble us, help us grow.  I’ve been thinking a lot about the miracle of Jesus Christ’s Atonement and the resurrection that will heal and fix so many things.  What a marvelous day it will be, and how many of us there are who ache and watch for that day with great longing.

Here I stand on the edge of another school year and I wonder, have I grown at all this year?  Am I learning anything?  Is there a habit anywhere in my life that is new because I’m trying?  I honestly don’t know.  I know I’m getting better at taking large groups of children to crowded places without feeling much stress.  {Does that count for anything?}  I’m getting better at helping my children work.  I’m becoming a better finisher.  I’m getting better at recognizing what we do and don’t need  and making decisions accordingly.  I don’t know that the house looks any better.   I’m still working at taking better care of my health.  But really, here I am near the end of August and I can’t really say that I’ve changed.  Not yet.  The old me might feel discouraged, but there is a hopeful feeling in my heart that says, “It’s ok.  Keep trying.  Work at it a while longer and then look back for evidence.”  There’s got to be a turning point nearby, a point at which things start to come together and stay that way more consistently.  I will find it.

So I’m going to check on the little kiddos upstairs and then I’m going to sleep.  Much as I want summer back, great things are ahead for me, for each of my children, for our whole family.  We’re still learning.  It will be a great year.

Jennifer