A Servant's Heart

I'm funny.

Not funny, as in ha ha funny -- because I'm not funny, I'm hilarious (that was just for you Jan) -- but funny as in woe to the person who has to try and figure me out. I suppose namely my husband.

One day I can be completely content to "serve" my family -- cook, clean, launder, wipe -- and the next I can go to the total extreme over something as simple as getting asked to get a drink of water: "You're 2 years old already dude! Learn how to pour your own glass of water!" :)

Now, you'd think that I would be least likely to want to "serve" when I'm tired and stressed out, right? Wouldn't the normal person have every right to ask for help in times of stress?

Oh no. Not me. Take for example this week. The kids are really sick with.... something. (The doctor said the dreaded "S" flu, but that's another story.) I have been maxing out on 3, maybe 4 hours a sleep a night. You'd think that I would be dragging my rear and being ill-tempered towards anyone who asked me for assistance. But no. I find myself relishing in the opportunity to serve them. I have 4 loads of laundry sitting here that I can't wait to fold. I feel like putting on an apron and washing windows. I even contemplated making a cake from scratch for pete's sake! Something about being sleep deprived is just bringing out the Susie Homemaker in me.

Maybe it's a case of feeling needed. Maybe God's finally giving me that "servant's heart" I've been asking for. I don't know. Whatever the case may be, I hope it never leaves. I sort of like being able to give freely without resentment... and I'm sure my husband likes it too!