Sometimes, motherhood is overwhelming.

Husband calls, and he says, “I am just checking on you. How was your day?”

And I say it because I was just thinking it, “It was good, but surely there is someone else that can play with her for 4 hours in a row, while I get to work on other things. Things I am supposed to do.”

Reluctantly I admit, I breathed a prayer, partly telling and partly asking, “Lord, someone else can do my job to play with toddler. I know there are other things with my time that I can be doing.”

And I really believe that — for about 20 minutes.

This day I posted this picture for my Facebook community, and asked, “What do you do on days like these?”

On days like these — go outside.

And I did. And I chased toddler around and around to the moon and back, while she chased frogs and offered them kisses.

And we swung. We bounced. We slid. We rocked. We dug.

And hours slowly ticked by, and I kept thinking, “I have so much to do. I cannot wait until her bedtime.”

My morning was spent teaching my struggling reader lessons that should take minutes and turn into hours.

The middle schooler is learning virtually independent of me, and I know she needs more than I have given her.

My senior needs papers and forms filled out.

My house is a disaster zone.

My blog and readers — sorely neglected.

Dinner? Clean underwear? Good luck with that.

And, I am potting training.

I wonder, is this even good for them? For me?

When I am back in the house after hours of play outside, I assess the damages, and get to work. But before I do, I press re-play on a worship song that I’ve had open onYouTube all week. As the worship is playing, and I am attempting clean the messes that seem out of control these days, the princess begs, “Mama, dance? Mama, dance?”

Instead of my default reply, “Mama has to clean. Go play. Don’t make a mess.”

I accept her offer. And we dance. And somehow, it becomes worship. It becomes joy. It becomes strength. And He’s with me — with us. And He speaks to me through the dance as we twirl and spin and she glides with me. And I feel her joy and see the life in her eyes.

And I know, I am right where I am supposed to be. God has called me to be home with my children. For my children to be home with me. It’s not just for them either, but for me.

For me to drink in and breathe in deeply of the life that they remind me to live.

For God to use them to reveal the truest character in me, and then refine me.

For us to grow up in Him, together.

And I realize this is grace. She is grace given to me, to draw me out of myself, to live selflessly, to help me to live as she lives her life so freely and fearlessly, to remind me what is most important.

And He will give me time to do

what He has called me to do.

My job is to do my part, 

and He will do the rest. 

And it seriously could have been a scene in a movie — music playing and everything. Although, baby girl was delightfully dressed, my outfit and hair, along with the rest of the house, might have scared you a bit.

As the sun was setting and the day was coming to an end, I remember that days like these are fleeting, and them, I want to live with no regrets. I remember…