This blog by Chuck Swindoll (one of my absolute favorite authors) will help you get through the next day you are ready to pull your hair out and look at pregnant women in the supermarket with sympathy. Someday Posted: 09 Sep 2014 10:00 PM PDT Philippians 4:11-13 SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, things are going to be a lot different. The garage wont be full of bikes, electric train tracks on plywood, sawhorses surrounded by chunks of two-by-fours, nails, a hammer and saw, unfinished experimental projects, and the rabbit cage. Ill be able to park both cars neatly in just the right places, and never again stumble over skateboards, a pile of papers (saved for the school fund drive), or the bag of rabbit food—now split and spilled. Ugh! SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, the kitchen will be incredibly neat. The sink will be free of sticky dishes, the garbage disposal wont get choked on rubber bands or paper cups, the refrigerator wont be clogged with nine cartons of milk, and we wont lose the tops to jelly jars, catsup bottles, the peanut butter, the margarine, or the mustard. The water jar wont be put back empty, and the honey will stay inside the container. SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, my lovely wife will actually have time to get dressed leisurely. A long, hot bath (without three panic interruptions), time to do her nails (even toenails if she pleases!) without answering a dozen questions and reviewing spelling words, having had her hair done that afternoon without trying to squeeze it in between racing a sick dog to the vet and a trip to the orthodontist with a kid in a bad mood because she lost her headgear. SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, we will return to normal conversations. You know, just plain American talk. Gross wont punctuate every sentence seven times. Yuk! will not be heard. Hurry up, I gotta go! will not accompany the banging of fists on the bathroom door. Its my turn wont call for a referee. And a magazine article will be read in full without interruption, then discussed at length without mom and dad having to hide in the attic to finish the conversation. SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, I won’t have to answer Daddy, is it a sin that youre driving forty-seven in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone? . . . or promise to kiss the rabbit goodnight . . . or wait up forever until they get home from dates . . . or have to take a number to get a word in at the supper table . Yes, someday when the kids are grown, things are going to be a lot different. One by one theyll leave our nest, and the place will begin to resemble order and maybe even a touch of elegance. The clink of china and silver will be heard on occasion. The crackling of the fireplace will echo through the hallway. The phone will be strangely silent. The house will be quiet . . . and calm . . . and always clean . . . and empty . . . and filled with memories . . . and lonely . . . and we wont like that at all. And well spend our time not looking forward to Someday but looking back to Yesterday. And thinking, Maybe we can babysit the grandkids and get some life back in this place for a change! Could it be that the apostle Paul had some of this in mind when he wrote: I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. (Philippians 4:11) Excerpted from Come Before Winter and Share My Hope, Copyright © 1985, 1988, 1994 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 21:50:41 +0000
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