Dental Floss and Daily Routine

I recently went to the dentist.  Ah, dreaded appointment.  While I don't look forward to the tense muscles, the aftermath of laying stiff as a board for a half hour, the real horror lies in the question.

I can feel the anxiety building as I sit down in the chair, bracing myself for the polishing and the supersonic water tool.  I breathe deeply and look up at the white ceiling tiles to avoid the bright yellow light shining into my open mouth.  The turquoise face mask comes into view as she begins.  We get through nearly the whole cleaning before it comes up, that question I have to answer.  It plagues my worried heart.  Ever the responsible person, I feel drowned in guilt knowing my answer.  Another rinse, and I know it's coming.  Then it's upon me:  "Have you been flossing regularly?"

"No," I say.  I try to smile apologetically.  It's one of those daily routines I just haven't adopted.  Some nights I'm too tired.  Other nights I forget.  Sometimes I realize my appointment is approaching, so I floss a few times in a desperate effort to support a more responsible answer.

"Even if you can floss a few times a week to start, that will help," says the dental hygenist.

"Okay."  I know I'll try again.  Every appointment, I leave saying I'm going to floss, even just those few times weekly.  The first week or two, I stick to it.  Then I start making excuses.  "I don't want to tonight" and "I'll do it tomorrow night" and "If I miss it one time, it can't make that much of a difference."  It's like a New Year's resolution, so determined at first.  Then, by February, nearly forgotten.

More often than I'd like to admit, this is also how I treat reading the Bible.  It's a routine that should be practiced daily, consistently.  And yet, I put it off.  I make excuses.  "I'm too tired."  "The kids are already awake."  "I've got to clean the house."

But, even though the routine can seem tedious, that's the only way to intimacy with God.

It doesn't happen overnight.

Much like flossing, the addition or subtraction of one day makes little difference.  Whether I floss today or not has a minimal effect on my gums.  Whether I read my Bible today or not has a minimal effect on my heart.  But if I don't do it today, chances are I won't do it tomorrow or the next day.  And then I drift further away.

It's through daily immersion in Scripture that God changes hearts.

Psalm 119:11 reads: "I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you."

Ephesians 6 reads: "Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes... Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God."  

It's His word which gives us the strength we need day by day to fight evil.  Jesus even quotes this Scripture to Satan, "Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord" (Deuteronomy 8:3).  It's His Word that nourishes us, His Word that breathes life into us, allowing us to see the world through a different lense.  And if we don't take the time to read it daily, consistently, then we miss out on God.

Do Lists and Spirit Fruit

The past few months, life has been pretty overwhelming.  With three little kids, housekeeping, bills, etc., I just can’t keep up.  I find myself feeling guilty every night when my husband gets home from work simply because I haven’t accomplished my do-list.  He’s usually very understanding, but I still feel guilty.

Before I became a housewife, I thought it would be simple.  I’d been teaching elementary school in a rough district with rough students. Every class period was an exercise in self-control.  I’d had to commute two hours each day.  Plus I still needed to do the normal adult tasks of daily life.  So little time.

When I left my job to stay at home with our baby (with another on the way), I thought I was cutting out a lot -- a whole job!  My stress should go down, right?  My new job description: take care of the kids.  No boss to worry about, no commuting, plus I could wear comfy clothes (and shoes!) every day.  But now, two years in, I have an enlightened perspective.  I see what’s involved in “taking care of the kids”: diapering, feeding, dressing, bathing, playing with, loving… there’s not even time for housework, let alone hobbies.

I feel my heart beating in my throat some days just thinking about the work that needs to be done.  But sometimes, I want to watch my daughter dance around the room like a ballerina.  When she holds out a stuffed animal and tells me he’s sick, I want to ask what happened.  I want to play with her.  I want to pay attention to my son as he learns new words, to savor every mispronunciation.  They outgrow them so fast.  I want to watch my youngest rock back and forth on his hands and knees, anticipating his first crawling step.  I don't want to tell them "not now" or "I'm busy" or "in a little bit."

But then when do I clean or cook?  When can I paint?  When do I finish planning those lessons for Sunday morning preschoolers?  I can’t be the best mom and have the cleanest house and pursue the most crafty projects and be the most faithful church volunteer.  It's impossible. And these are only a few of the ideals that tug on my heart.  There is not enough time, not enough energy to fulfill them all.  

As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m not perfect.  

Only a day or two a month do I reach the end of my do-list by the end of the day. And some days, a lot of days, it really bugs my perfectionist brain.  It’s like an itch in the middle of my back: I contort my arm and body trying to reach it thinking that once I scratch it, all will be right in my world.  

But here’s the truth: getting through my do-list is not really what matters.  I’ve deceived myself into thinking that the tasks that fill up my days are what matter the most.

That’s not true.

God’s opinion of me matters the most.  And He doesn’t care whether I crossed off every task today.  He cares about my attitude, about the state of my heart.  As a follower of Christ, I am supposed to be filled with the Spirit, the Holy Spirit who transforms my heart to act with these qualities: “But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Against such things there is no law.” Galations 5:22-23

Nowhere does it say the fruit of the Spirit is daily productivity.  If I am truly filled with the Spirit, then the do-list is not my top priority.  I can be free of the burden of being a perfect housewife.  Does that mean I should neglect my responsibilities?  No.  But when I live with these characteristics on my heart, I’m altered.  I’m free to love and work without letting the do-list measure my success.  Acting out of love, I can change diapers, make lunch, read bedtime stories.  I can continue joyfully through my day of work with peace.  And if I work hard and don't finish it all, that’s alright.  It’s not how God measures my success.  He wants me to love, to be joyful and peaceful and patient, to act with kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  I must let that be the measure of my success.  Not “What did I get done today?” but “Did I produce the fruits of the Spirit today?”

Mountain of Dishes

Have you ever been overwhelmed?  Too much to do?  Find yourself procrastinating whatever task looms?

For me, it was a mountain of dirty dishes.  Crusted cottage cheese bowls, placemats smeared with dried oatmeal, a large pot thick with layers of mac-and-cheese residue.  

All waiting for me.

So instead I sat staring at the toys scattered over the living room floor, watching the minutes tick by.  I knew I should get up and deal with the mess while the children were napping.  I kept thinking that those dishes might just disappear if I waited long enough.  

I can dream, right?

Maybe I could even take a nap.  Maybe fairies would come in and tidy up so I could wake up to order and cleanliness…  Oh, and they could vacuum!  And scrub the toilet!  And surely they’ll do the dishes for me!  Wouldn’t that be nice?  

Well, I’m sorry to say that no fairies arrived.  So, reluctantly, I got up and headed to the kitchen.  Every counter, including the stovetop and table, was covered.  Both sinks were full.  You may have heard of a magical thing called a dishwasher.  Perhaps you even have one!  In my house, that (not so) magical thing is… me.  

We do dishes the old-fashioned way, in a soapy sink with a washcloth.  So, I reached my hand into the leftover dishwater from the night before and drained it.  Cold, slimey water full of lettuce bits and noodle remnants disappeared slowly down the drain, leaving a marinara-tinged grease ring around the edges of the stainless steel.  

After a deep breath, I began moving dishes from the sinks out onto the counter to make room to wash.  

A few minutes later, I was scrubbing away. As I stuck my hands in the searing water full of fresh suds, I could feel my tension subsiding.  “I can do this,” I thought, “Just one dish at a time.”  Then I smiled at the thought, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34

Each day has enough trouble of its own.

As I stood in my filthy kitchen, washing one dish at a time, I realized that was all I had to do (in fact, all I could do) -- one dish at a time.  I didn’t even have to think about the pots and pans piled on the stove, not until I'd finished the dishes in my sink.  And even then, only one at a time.

Each day has enough trouble of its own.  I am a natural worry-wart, so I’ve clung to this verse many times.  But this time I processed the depth of my ineptitude, my astounding need for God’s grace and energy to combat my worry.  I had never realized that I need to take things one minute at a time.  God’s grace is sufficient for me, and I need Him desperately.  But not just once a day.  I need Him every minute.  I can’t run on my own juice any longer than that -- it all is God.