pot of granola

I just read Angie Smith’s blog, which never fails to make me laugh… or cry… or both. She just announced that she is speaking at next year’s Women  of Faith events. What an opportunity for her to share what God has taught her. I heard her speak at The Relevant Conference, and let me tell you, the girl is in tune with God.

As I wiped my son’s drippy nose for the twentieth time, I caught myself daydreaming.

I wonder what it’s like to speak at one of those. How amazing to have a message to share, something so important that God wants you to speak to thousands of women about it.

Then my oven timer beeped.

I’m making granola, a staple breakfast food in our house. We needed a fresh batch last week but kids have been sick and I’ve been trying to cram two weeks of work into one so that I can focus on my youngest and his heart procedure next week. I’m finally making it today, in between school buses and doctor’s appointments.

As I stooped over the oven rack to stir the roasting honey-coated goodness, I heard:

This is important, too.

Really? Stirring granola and making doctor’s appointments?

This is your ministry. Working with the children I’ve given you, caring for the home I’ve given you, and loving the husband I’ve given you, it is important.

Making breakfast/lunch/dinner/snacks, administering cold medicines, kissing boo-boos and wiping noses, kissing my husband good-bye, running kids to bus stops, sorting dirty laundry, and cleaning up cat puke? These are just as important as speaking God’s Word to thousands of women.

(Not that I ever have or ever will speak at Women of Faith. I mean, I’ve spoken at conferences, but I was talking about health care, not about God. Worlds apart.)

Maybe the lessons I’m learning about pride and self-love and faith are things that God will want me to speak about some day. But this is today, this season, this chapter.

And for now, I think He just wants me to learn them.