I lift my eyes up...

"I lift my eyes up to the hills
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
Who made heaven and earth."
-Psalm 121:1-2

For these past weeks, this verse has played over and over and over in my brain. I have been so overwhelmed with the daily dealings of our home life right now. Yet where does my help come from? The LORD Jesus, sweet, sweet Jesus.

Of course, as much as I'd love it, He hasn't been able to bodily pop in and give me a hand with diapers and homeschooling. He hasn't performed a miracle that allows Eric to suddenly have a two week vacation, or at least weekends off again. He hasn't sent some saint knocking at my door, begging to clean my house and cook all the meals.

But He's certainly been our Helper.

Some of the ways He's been carrying us through this time aren't even tangible. As I sit here, I realize there's no actual way to write about what He's done in our home, and in particular, in me. Sure, we've been reminded of verses, we've had calls from friends at just the right time, we've had the little ones take extra long naps on days I thought I would snap...but it's more and it's deeper. I can't explain.

Except for one thing.

Whenever I think of the above verse, if I can, I look out the windows to the actual hills I see and I pray. I love that. And with the view from here, a lot of hills can be seen. So there I was, praying that verse, gazing out of the Appalachian hills that surround our home, ignoring the crying and screaming and mess that lay behind me, and I felt the Holy Spirit whisper this:

"Lift your eyes up..."

And I understood. A large part of the anger/irritation/impatience I've felt in this trial has to do with the fact that so many things are disorganized. I thrive on routine and order and plans. Our life is the opposite of that now. However, I also love being at home and loving on my little ones and enjoying a slow pace of life. Our life could be that now. I just need to lift my eyes up. I need to lift them up above the toys on the unvacuumed, unswept floors. I need to lift them up above the piles of unfolded laundry and unopened mail. I need to lift them above the books I want to read and the fancy food I want to bake. And when I do, I see amazing: the eyes of my children, all looking at me, waiting to have the undivided attention of a smiling mother. They could care less about everything else, as long as they have me. At this point in my life, I can't give them a neat, organized household, but I can give them me.

All I have to do is lift my eyes up...and keep them there.