Rhythmic churning of the washer muffled screams throughout my house. I buried my face in my hands. I was desperate to find God here, this small place of solitude. Amid piles of laundry and fresh scents, he gripped my unsteadiness. The Lord drew me to himself, guarding my mouth from harm. He is my tower of strength when I struggle with fleshly tendencies. I sought him, and his faithful presence upheld me.
Another day I sprawled across my bed, bumping into kid's toys left behind. My teething baby and stubborn two-year-old unraveled me this day. Arms wide open, eyes shut, my exhausted body relented. I sought God amid back aches, frustrations, and tears. And like a loving father, he scooped me in his arms, quieting me with his love.
One day, on a miraculous day, my soul was overwhelmed by his goodness. Like getting caught up in a downpour on a sweltering, summer day, the Lord's graciousness saturated my soul. He made paths through pastures deemed impassable. His mercies were overflowing. Amid joys indescribable, I sought God with loud praise.
“Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:12-13, NIV
My hands were deep into scrubbing my kitchen sink the other day when I heard his voice. It was so clear, distinct, I envisioned him near me. As usual, I felt overwhelmed this day, and my driven mindset clouded the moment. All I was thinking about was the numerous tasks needing to be accomplished by the day's end. I was determined to complete them all.
But in that moment, I felt as if Jesus was wrapping his arms around me, placing his hands over mine, inviting me to let go and follow him. It was an invitation.
An invitation to seek him.
Because seeking the Lord isn't all about perfectly planned out quiet times. I learned that years ago. My moment of clarity came the year I cradled my firstborn in my arms.
(To continue reading, visit my guest post at The Better Mom blog by clicking here.)