Craft-Room Confessional

Mornings in the Hoskins' house have a rhythm and litany. I suppose every household has one that you can hear in-between the early morning groans, crack of eggs and jingle of car keys. Everyday is relatively the same these days which is fine with me because life with toddlers is nothing if not spontaneous. James wakes me. I wake the girls. James is on kitchen duty while I choose outfits and receive disapproving pouts from two ladies who are not impressed with my braiding skills. My favorite part is after the bedroom salon shuts down and the girls gather with their dad at the table for breakfast.  I eavesdrop while I get ready in our bedroom. James might turn on Stir it Up by Bob Marley while the girls mix honey in their oatmeal.  Then they all serenade me with Hall & Oates Man Eater as I enter the kitchen for my meal - Thank you, James *side-eye*.

Our soundtrack is real random and real old school. Our litany is an ebb and flow of sweet rousing, rushed frustration,  reminders of God's presence and a call to be respectful and obedient. We rush out the door and I transform from personal stylist to HotDyssey DJ for a 15 minute ride to school. When I drop the girls off we pray at the door of their classrooms and l remind them, again, to be kind, respectful and to choose obedience. Every.  Morning. If the girls decide to choose disobedience the consequence is a tete-a-tete with their dad. James begins with bass in his voice and ends it with a tickle and round of shuggies (Not even mad). I expect moments of disobedience from Team Tiny because, well, they are toddlers and humans. The "talk" with dad is how we establish accountability. Then we celebrate when they try again the next day. My sweet Madeline is no stranger to these post-school meetings with her father. Myka, however, is a typical baby sibling. She knows how to avoid trouble and usually comes home with a clean report. This mama here is no fool. As the baby of three I too once mastered the art of flying under the radar.

Myka must have been completely guilt-ridden the day she turned her dad's leather-working station into a confessional. None of her teachers mentioned any ill-behavior during pick-up. As far as I knew she had an A+ day an was well on her way to watching a movie on Friday.

"Daddy, I was disobedient today."
"What happened Myks?"
"Ms. Harris told me to put my shoes on when we were playing outside and I didn't."
"Why did you do that, Myks?"
*shrugs and drops her head* "I don't know"
"Well, maybe you can try again tomorrow."

That was that.  James moved on to more crafting with his sweet girl. Her little burden had been lifted. Confession. A call to repentance. Invitation to intimacy. What a heavy load my lil shortie had been carrying all day. She knew where to unload.

"Let us approach the throne of grace with boldness so that we may receive mercy and find grace in time of need." Hebrews 4:16

I am grateful for much. My husband is a gentle daddy who is more mush than machismo. My girls (and I) find compassion, patience and laughter with him when we are at our worst. Myka knew that mercy and forgiveness awaited her and she came boldly to receive it. To know Jesus is to live life with a conscience cleared of sin. It can't haunt us or berate us because in Him it is forgiven and forgotten. There is nothing euphemistic about it. That is just the mystical truth of the covenant that God established with us through the death of His Son.

This should be my litany after a day filled with missed marks.  I often skip over the part where God invites me to climb into His lap and unload the burden of my sin.  The part where He reminds me that I belong to Him. The part where I find understanding, mercy and a clean slate. The part where He, even still, invites me to sit  with Him and join Him in His work. And that's the best part.