As a young(er) mother, I daily struggled with the feeling that I should be doing something I wasn’t doing.
It wasn’t any one thing in particular. Just a nagging sense that I should be giving my energy to that, instead of this. Seems I spent altogether too much time recognizing the cost.
Because assembling toddler puzzles on the floor with my girl meant dirty dishes stayed spread across the kitchen counter.
Because throwing in a load of laundry meant acknowledging the laundry piles, and that slippery slope might keep me from playing with the kids for a good long time.
More days than I care to admit I turned toward the vacuum. Guilt.
Toward the children. Guilt.
Each decision for something meant a decision against something else.
Sometimes I ignored the nags and the myriad decisions and responded by receiving the moment. Acknowledging the gift of it, them, whatever came my way. I opened my hands and danced the dance of this minute into the next with thanks.
But many nights, reflecting across the hours, I wondered if I did what I was “supposed to do” that day.
As if there were some magic formula: laughing kids + sparkling sink + steaming bowl of soup on the range = success. Had I gotten it?
Or maybe the formula was changing? Was it different everyday?
I tried to crack the code.
And I still struggle here. Because for many of us, the right way seems an elusive somewhere out there, and we so badly want to get it right.
But I’m coming to believe there’s no code.
Yesterday, big girls at school, Lala and I puttered around the house.
I worked next to her on the couch while she watched Sesame Street.
I put the room of Christmas decorations into several boxes while I talked on the phone with a woman from church who recently lost her husband. Lala puttered in another room, playing school and arranging brightly colored plastic circles on a folding table.
I felt the guilt and asked if she wanted to do a puzzle, play a game with me, read a story, and she really didn’t. She was content. And it sort of freed me as I scrubbed the plates and lined them up in the dishwasher.
I thought again about trust and its ribbony arms through my life these days. How speaking out trust is such an antidote to my anxiety.
So I said aloud to God, I trust you.
I trust you.
I trust that this moment is where you have me.
And so is the next.
Then Lala came alongside and asked, “Can I help you?”
She climbed up on her kitchen stool, and we talked about what needs to be hand washed and how to place the scalloped bowls on the top rack so the water can spray them clean.
We talked rhyming words and outside the snowflakes fell.
Light and easy. With plenty of spaces between.
____________________
Linking up today with the free writing community at Just Write.
And lovely MOPS ladies, if you are finding us here for the first time, I would love to connect with you. If you’d like, please subscribe to receive free email updates (at the sidebar on your computer or likely at the footer if you are using a smartphone), drop me a note or “like” Draw Near – blog on Facebook so you can receive updates to your feed when I’ve posted new. Thank you for your visit!

Thank you for writing this, today, just for me.
That sentence blesses me more than you know (or maybe you do). Thank you, Brandee.
I spent all of 2012 focusing on the word trust. I love how much I realized trust is tied to faith. Thank you for sharing your story today. I appreciate being reminded that a simple prayer is all that is needed to refocus and enjoy the present.
Trust was my word for 2012, too. Yes, tied to faith (not the same). Good stuff.
Brandee! You were a “trust”er last year too. So tell me, what do you see as the primary difference between trust and faith?
It’s so cool how many other current or previous “trust”-ers I’ve found through One Word. Thanks for your words this morning, Malisa. I am so excited to see what focusing on trust brings to my understanding this year. I’m especially fascinated by the link between trust and faith.
And just for me. I’ve been trying to figure out just what to say, but “I trust you,” will do, it will do just perfectly. Thank you.
Thank you, Olivia. What an encouragement your words are to me this morning (and thanks so much for the share). You are right — often it can be such a struggle to find the words. It is amazing to me how often the simplest are the best. Blessings to you, new friend.
Yes! As if “getting it right” was what parenting, or “spousing”, or being a friend, or Living was all about! (How “well” I’ve practiced that mistaken thinking!)
It seems to me, that if there’s a “code” (I love that you used that word) maybe it’s this: Being “present” is what “It”‘s about, and being in this present moment is in itself an act of Trust. (No scrambling to be something else, do more than is in this moment for us to do, no imagining where or how we should be instead of Here. Here, in the loving hands of the Creator. Here, with this person, with these people, with these dishes, with this soup simmering on the stove.) You’ve offered a lovely reminder here, and I know you wrote it just for me. :) Thank you for that! xx
Mama, what beautiful thoughts here! Yes, as I wrote this morning, I was thinking about this very thing: how presence to (and by extension, gratitude for) the right here is the answer. You say it so well. Right here is the moment/the gift we’ve been given. Right here are we, in the hands of the loving Creator. Amen!
Dang girl, I can so relate to this. This morning, I felt like nothing was right. I was thinking “I’m shoveling snow in a snowstorm”. Funny to hear you say there’s space in between the snowflakes. It’s like a response to my feeling overwhelmed. Sometimes I care too much that things are challenging, and other times I welcome it.
I hear you, Chris. Sometimes the challenge can feel exciting. Other times just plain exhausting…I know that storm feeling well.
On another note, it makes me so happy to know that God used that little turn of phrase this morning for you. I love when he does that for me in the writing of others. Today, may you know peace, peace and space in between, friend.
Hi dear Ashley
This is so beautiful, thank you! Please remember that guilt feelings when you have not done something wrong, is not from our Pappa. It is straight from the enemy! Be kind to yourself, dear one!
Hugs to you XX
Mia
Absolutely, Mia. I’m grateful for all I’m learning of grace and recognizing God’s voice in the midst of all others. Yes, indeed — the hanging on of guilt is certainly not from God.
ahhh the life of the mom. it is so very nice to know we deal with the same things. the desire to do the right thing…but then that inner struggle of prioritizing. i guess we just need to talk to jesus in our spirit the way that we breath….moment by moment. i am really enjoying this song lately called Pilot Me….i will send it to you. i woke up with it playing in my head this morning. it pretty much sums up how i need to walk through THIS day. i love you buddy. this weekend was a treasure to be next to you guys in the hotel and to hear of the adventures of all six girls out on the town. mike’s adventurous spirit was an inspiriation to josh. YES we need to have some larkin-miller family fun more often. it’s just tooooooo easy when we are all together….to laugh, play and be real. ps- we just watched the shaun the sheep bagpipe episode on sunday :) love you forever!
oh and i can’t wait to see that pic that josh said you took. the one of all the girls looking over the pier all lined up on their own in age order. oh my goodness gracious.
Absolutely, moment by moment, breath by breath. Please send that song. I’ll send the photo to you. I treasure you, friend. Was so good to be with you and your family too — sharing life, parenting, family, celebration. And how beautiful to feel the easy sometimes. Like a huge breath of fresh air. How we love you (and all the Miller sweethearts, Josh included)!
So beautifully said!
Thank you, Kristin! And thanks so much for stopping by.
You write my heart here. There is a tension in the balance, so much TO balance. But the peace comes when the struggle ends and the heart releases itself to Trust. I still am there, in the place you write of so tenderly and beautifully. Your momma’s heart sings a sweet peaceful song. Love to you my friend. Love your art and your heart here.
“The peace comes when the struggle ends” … so true, my friend. Oh, that I wouldn’t struggle so hard. Thank you for your words that fill me right up. :-)
Once again, you capture something deep, something full of tension, in a way that breaks it down to one its simplest roots: trust. And I love how your Mama said that being right where we are is, in itself, an act of trust. How hard it is! How sweet, though, that just calling out for Jesus, just uttering the words “I trust you” (often preceding the feeling), is really all that it takes to turn our hearts toward trust. Thank you for this reminder – it gives me peace, friend. There can be space between the snow falling – the light and easy between the hard. What a beautiful thought.
I loved my mama’s words, too. Yes that simple, yet so hard thing of letting go and being right where we are. And, as you say, speaking the truth (of trust) before we necessary feel the trusting. Thank you for hearing the deeper cries of my heart. I appreciate you so much, Amber.
Oh, this is always the dance of indecision for me.. for a while I raced to have “success”.. but you know, at 50 I was completely burned out, exhausted, fed up and resentful. The good news.. I’ve learned to live more like you’ve described and am much happier for it. Wise words for young mothers with guilt here!
Smidge, thank you so much for sharing a piece of your journey. There are definitely two parts of me doing battle: the one racing to “success” — whatever I conceive that to be in a given season — and the one wanting to let go and trust. I thank you for sharing your hard-fought wisdom and the results of what came from the race. Bless you, friend.
Wow, I feel you Ash…I often feel in a “balancing act” as well, never quite feeling there is enough hours in a day & needing to TRUST that what was done in the house or with the kids is enough & that it’s ok!
Yes, friend, it is OK! And what is this elusive balance anyway? We are enough, and yet we’re not. It’s a both/and thing, isn’t it?
I love the declaration….voicing out “God, I trust you!”…so good. Thanks for the reminder.
Thank you, friend, for walking this journey of trust with me. So glad to be able to talk about these thoughts that swirl and thankful that, in the meantime, at all times, we can declare trust together!