Yet in the midst of all the clamor – laundry, dishes, cleaning, parties, gifts, bills, endless tasks – there is a still, small voice. Elijah heard it and hid his face. The voice reminds me that I find my menaing here, amid the clutter, and that the clutter is not the worst thing. The voice calms me, and turns my mind to the day when I’ll wish for the clutter of a small child and the embrace of a spouse. The voice points me to where I belong, at the feet of Jesus, living out my vocation.
The Still, Small Voice
Sometimes the world just seems too much – mountains of laundry and dishes and “stuff,” with no end in sight, and everything self-propagating and apparently breeding while I’m at work. Some of the tasks seem so trivial and mundane, and yet, indispensable. (We can’t, for example, go long without underwear.)