Sometimes God speaks to me and I get all kinds of excited about it and then I don't write it down and somehow seem to forget. I hate when that happens and I want 2014 to be a year where I do better at recording and absorbing God's words.
I worked most of the day cleaning and organizing my bedroom. I haven't done this in quite a long while, and while I'm not yet finished, I made a huge dent in the clutter, carrying out two giant trash bags of junk. I organized my bookshelves and drawers, under my bed, my nightstand, and started on my closet. I've made a lot of headway, even though I think it'll take another day or two to be totally complete.
And I was frustrated, over and over, that my kids wanted to be in there while I was trying to clean. I couldn't focus. I had to keep hollering for someone to come get Ella Grace, because she was pulling things out of the trash bag, and Libby kept asking me questions and getting frustrated with me because I wasn't spending more time with her. I think I was also feeling just a tad bit of sensory overload.
So when I got into the bathtub this evening, even though there were voices all outside the bathroom door, I tried to shut it off and talk to God. I told him I was struggling with all the noise. I told him I wanted to hear him speak, even though I wasn't sure how I was going to hear him above all the noise and activity and chaos.
And then I knew he was reminding me about the woman with the issue of blood. She approached Jesus in the middle of a throng of people, all bumping up against him and making physical contact with his body. But when SHE touched him, it was different. She knew and he knew. Something miraculous had happened.
And just like that I knew that even when I am drowning in noise, surrounded by voices of demanding children and baby cries and phones ringing and teenagers playing guitar... Even through all that, I can hear when HE speaks. I know and he knows. Something miraculous happens.
He breaks right through.
And just like that, I am made whole again.