Monday, January 24, 2011
My Living Room Floor
Three different times in the last week, I have heard the phrase “in your living room floor”. Two of those times the speakers were talking about our Sunday Night Bible studies in Stillwater. In both instances we were reminiscing about the sweet times when that room was full of girls – some in pajama pants, many without makeup – just ready to learn from the Word.
So many times on Sunday afternoon as I was cooking something for the girls to eat I would be praying that the Lord would speak to us. To all of us. I never felt prepared enough. Never felt worthy enough to be the one He chose to love on those precious girls. He did ask me to be available, and although there were many nights I felt unprepared, He always came through for us. I still get to reap the benefits of it almost on a weekly basis when someone calls and catches me up on their lives, their families, and their walks with the Lord. I love it.
The other mention of the living room floor was someone talking about walking in at Christmas and seeing the boys wrestling. Every time we all get together at Christmas, there is at least one wrestling match. Sometimes it is just Kyle and Adam; sometimes the whole group gets involved. My living room isn’t very big but that doesn’t matter.
When we first moved to Ennis I worried a little that there wouldn’t be enough beds for all the kids when they were home at the same time. The first time they were all here I went on to bed before they did. When I got up the next morning to cook breakfast I walked into the living room and all the kids were asleep. In the living room floor. The beds were empty. I treasure it.
A few weeks back that floor was covered with packages and paper – so much stuff, you couldn’t see the carpet. Kids were laughing and watching others open gifts. I looked over and saw Journey crawling on top of boxes and Eli opening his presents with so much excitement. For a minute I imagined the room full, growing in number year after year.
Cathy gave me a little framed print once that says, “I knew I would look back at the tears and laugh, but I never thought I would look back at the laughter and cry.” As I think back at all the memories made in our living room floor, whatever town we lived in, I remember the noise and the laughter and it makes me a little teary. I cherish it.