I don't know about you, but Mondays are fightin' days for me. I fight to get out of bed, after inevitably staying up too late Sunday night engrossed in PBS or halfheartedly snatching glances at football (you know, when you do that trying-to-look-authentic-eyes-glazed-over-lifting-and-lowering-eyebrows-with-a-slow-nod thing when your husband calls your attention to some play or unbelievable call) or seeing how many tabs I can open on my online rabbit trails. (I don't know if it is this way for every pastor's wife, but Sunday nights are a mini-celebration for me: Yeah! We got through another Sunday! None of our kids were accidentally left at church [this week], and I have my husband back!)
And there is the fight to reclaim the house after a weekend of doing things other than the ordinary. So, there's the ordinary, only it's morphed into the extra-ordinary and heinous. Specifically, we're talking laundry, bathroom scrubbing, and the ever-present, "But what'll we do about dinner?"
These are my Monday morning musings. Life is busy. I'd expound on that, but I just don't have the time.
Instead, I'll leave you with the song I've been playing over and over to my children today. They're so grateful.