fuzzies

Hazel likes to pick teeny tiny things up.

The itsy-bitsiest morsels are offered to me... pudgy baby hands extending gifts of unspeakable value... most of the time - it's little (almost miniscule, sometimes completely invisible and imaginary) pieces of lint.

Fuzzies, if you will.

I find it amusing that she notices and picks up these ridiculously tiny fuzzies. And that she gives them to me with a grin that belies her thoughts: "I am giving Mama the BEST thing ever!!"

Too often as an adult, I am irritated by my life's "fuzzies." (Both metaphorical fuzzies and ACTUAL pieces of lint).

Today, my eyes and brain are fuzzy from lack of sleep. Other days, fuzzies take different shapes: piles of laundry, unexpected bills, a dishwasher that seems incapable of WASHING the dishes...

I kick the fuzzies. I chew them out, mentally hurling insults and threats at these inconveniences in my day. I do not look at them and see small treasures, waiting to be discovered.

What if I took the same view my daughter does... and use household chores as an opportunity to give a gift to someone else? Turn up the music, sing along, and smile - knowing that I am serving, working for the Lord and not for men, and just love on those around me.

My fuzzy brain had me on edge this morning - but thanks to a faithful God and some specially-requested prayers being offered up by a faithful husband - I am no longer on edge. Sure, I'm still tired. I wish I had gotten more sleep - I wish my daughter had gotten more sleep.

But I'll use my quietness today to be still and listen for Jesus. Take a moment to rest and "be," when I might normally be inclined to "do." And find sweet, simple joy in making bread for dinner, cookies for fun, and playing on the living room floor with my girl.

And graciously accepting every single gift of lint she gives me.