The boy is sleeping, the girls are running through the backyard doing their level best to make enough noise to wake him up, beans are on the stove, cornbread in the oven, washer, dryer and dishwasher all humming in their domestic orchestra and I, well I have about five minutes.
Five minutes to sit and let these aching muscles rest after wrestling the groceries into and out of the store, car, shopping bags and curious hands respectively.
Five minutes of relative quiet for these ears that have listened to piano pounding, name-calling, running and stomping, ear-splitting cries, sweet heart-felt prayers, hesitant reading, giggles, traffic, dog barking, and general mischief making.
Five minutes to think…about chores and lists, a boy I know who is in need of prayer today, the argument the neighbors had yesterday, how my daughter is doing in school, what I can do to bless my husband today, whether I should call my grandma (yes, I should).
Five minutes to let the sun warm me as it shines through the window spilling over the desk and onto my lap reminding me that God is warmth and light.
Five minutes to ask God to forgive me for my impatience with my children, for the way I spoke too quickly and too harshly with them, for not listening to the entire request before saying no, for letting my mind wander and drift into worry and doubt.
Five minutes to praise the Lord for all that He has done–redemption at great personal price, healing, hope–not just for me but for all.
And sure enough, I hear the boy stirring and the girls are clamoring for a snack and a game and five minutes is over. But, I made the most of my five minutes.