I seriously desire to dig into God’s Word and soak in its deep truths. Having a “quiet time” is vital. But let me just be honest, my quiet time is the farthest thing from quiet. It’s pretty much the opposite.
I am the mommy to three toddlers. I have just recently survived nursing our baby a year, and our family is moving into a place where we can somewhat function again. You would think that I could have it more together. But then again, I am a mother—to toddlers.
I feed everyone breakfast (Usually more than one breakfast because my children are hobbits. True story.). I make myself a cup of coffee and turn on worship music. I get them set up in our boys’ room to play. They are old enough to play well together. I am steps away and can hear well, so please don’t panic. I grab my cup of coffee, which is already lukewarm because I had to convince my littles that they could, in fact, play…with toys…in their room. I sit down in my husband’s fluffy recliner with my Women’s Study Bible. I take a drink of my now barely warm liquid and open the Word.
I have been seated less than one minute when the first “Mommy!” rings out. I say, “Yes?” No answer. “Mommy!” “Yes?” *Silence* “Mommy!!!!! MOMMMMMYYYYY!!!!” I rise from the chair and walk to the playroom. “Yes?” They each act completely astounded that I am standing in the doorway. “What did you need?” Our oldest says, “Nothing Mommy,” and grins in his infectious way. I return to my chair. Focus my mind and open the Bible again.
I read one sentence. *Crying* It’s the baby. Someone is not giving her the toy she wants, or she is tired (Her first nap is early, and I often have to convince her to stay awake until 9:30 a.m.), or she has fallen down (Don’t worry. The likelihood of a genuine injury is very slim. She doesn’t like to fall down when she’s tired and being deprived of the one toy she wants in a room filled with toys.). I go to the room again. Pick her up. Snuggle her. Place her back on the floor. All is well, and I return to the recliner.
I pick up the Word. I read a long list of genealogies. I’m re-reading 1 Chronicles. It challenges my brain to read lists of names, but I want to soak in the tidbits in between and develop more of an appreciation for what the author is doing and saying. I get a bit of a headache trying to be so spiritual. Maybe 5 minutes has passed (Probably not, but I’m feeling generous from all my Bible study.).
I finish the chapter. I am about to have a complete thought about the tribes of Israel returning from exile when the room erupts with little feet and giggles, shouts and “Mommy!” “Mommy!” I laugh and smile and take a swig of my cold coffee right before I am attacked with hugs and kisses by three sweet faces.
After more snuggles, it’s snack time. I lay the baby down for her morning nap. I thank the Lord for my “quiet time” and begin to fold laundry.