This is what happens when you leave your Bible open:
It’s a fitting passage for two-year-old Hattie to have scribbled out, actually. When we chose her name it was because I thought it was cute and old fashion-dy. I disregarded that Hattie means, “Ruler of the Household.”
So her marking out the verses in 1 Peter about wives submitting to their husbands makes sense, really. She’s may have a few hard lessons to learn about the Biblical design for marriage when she gets hitched someday, but, really, who doesn’t?
This is what happens when you take a shower around here:
P.S. Do not look at the mildew.
But, seriously, a chubby little paw messing with the knobs while I bathe is not unusual. And I discovered recently that our bathroom door locks do not work. I will never have privacy again.
And then there’s bedtime.
Josh and I used to have a couple hours alone together after tucking the kids in. Now we share those hours with a sweet-cheeked fella who seems to think that eight to 10 p.m. is a block of time just too much fun to be missed.
Last night was unusual. Little Fish went to bed early. (Joy! Rapture!)
And I was asleep on the couch by 8:30.
This is life…with little humans underfoot.
I found a verse that stood out to me a few weeks ago. It’s not the typical kind you memorize, but I’ve started working on storing it deep and safe.
It says, “Now it happened that as he [Jesus] was praying alone, the disciples were with him. And he asked them, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” (Luke 9:18).
Anything stand out to you there?
Read it again.
Did you catch it?
As Jesus was praying alone, or “in private” as some translations say, his disciples were with him.
He doesn’t sound all that alone to me. Just trying to spend some time with his Father, and even Jesus had people underfoot.
This was his life.
Not so unlike yours or mine, eh?
There are days when I am terrified that I will never have alone time again. That every quiet time might result in early-morning interruptions, scribbles and rips in my Bible. That even my personal hygiene is vulnerable to hijacking.
But what this passage in Luke says to me is that, just as in everything else about being human, Jesus can relate.
His moments of ministry were intermingled with his responsibilities to those following after him. He did not divorce the two. For Jesus, life was ministry, and having people around constantly was a necessary part of the gig. Even when, I suspect, the guy just needed some time alone.
Life is made up of seasons. Seasons of naptimes cut short and wiggly little fingers invading under the bathroom door. Seasons of jobs we have to do for folks we don’t necessarily want to do for. Seasons of people, always people, in our space.
But be encouraged.
As Hebrews tells us, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…”(Hebrews 4:15a).
The God of the universe remembers us in this time of never-aloneness. He’s been there too. He gets the struggle. No wonder Hebrews also points out that still today Jesus “always lives to intercede” for us (Heb. 7:25).
Be of good cheer, friends.
Never alone means always with God.
And that is definitely worth all the shower-interruptions in the world.