The Waiting Game

So my little one.. W.. is due in exactly thirteen days.

What does that mean? Nothing. It means that she could be here in three hours, three days, thirteen days, or even (God FORBID!) thirty days. I've been stuck in this funny waiting place.. of wanting her to be here NOW and fearing that we are not ready and we need a little bit more time. There are a few more closets to clean out (how much de-cluttering can you do when you moved only a few months ago? I'll be colour coding my towels if left to my own devices!), I could probably stand to reorganize my freezer and label my frozen meals, my floors could use another vaccuum and the tile a quick wipe down, the bathrooms a once-over.....

On any regular day the thought of doing these things is a balm. I take pride in being a house wife.. having clean floor and overly organzied cupboards keep my mind organized.... I know I over-do it and I'm OCD and for some people these things don't matter. That's fine. I'm not saying that they should for everyone, but for me, and the way that I work.. they do... Or they NORMALLY do.

Today they feel menial. Who am I organizing this closet for? So that in a few days at three am when I need to change the sheets in a messy, stinky crib, I know what colour I'm grabbing?

Today there are bigger things to think about. The little girl who's on her way. What kind of home is she coming into? No.. it won't be full of dust and her socks will probably be paired.. thanks to the strange combination of OCD and germaphobia that I seem to have gotten from my Mom and Dad.. but I PRAY and I HOPE that it will be full of love. That along with teaching her the best ways to fold towels and fitted sheets I can teach her to love God above all else... that the secret to chewy chocolate chip cookies is dissolving the baking soda in hot water... that it's okay to make mistakes... that she is immeasurable valued and loved...

Today I realized that even if my house isn't ready, my heart is, and all the rest.. will fall into place..