contentment

I rush around the room, dusting, vacuuming, and straightening. I list things on Craigslist and I throw things away. I race back and forth as things belong in different rooms. I arrange and I rearrange. I look around. I'll have to excuse that bookshelf if I blog about it. We haven't painted it yet. And the coffee table... we haven't glued the feet on. I need to sew throw pillows and finish that painting. I need to find a place to keep the extra white Christmas bulbs. I want to start my house tour for you.

Wait, Amanda.


I need to clean out the pantry and wrap the Christmas presents. I need to run that to the car and that to the dump. I need to scrub the bathroom and the trashcan.

Wait. 


I feel myself slow as I look around. I'm so excited to show you my life, and so worried about what you'll think. I don't want you think we're poor. We're living by daily bread and have more than enough of everything. I realize then, that I care about what you think too much. I try too hard to be "finished". I want our home to be finished. To be picture worthy. I want you to know that I have good ideas and I am capable of executing them. I want you to know that I have a husband who helps me to accomplish goals. I want to tell you. I want to show you.

But, wait.

It's almost five o'clock. If the Living Room is perfectly spotless so I could take pictures, but the bed isn't made when my husband gets home, I will have failed. I will not be the woman who I want to be. I will not be the example I will eventually want my children to see. The name of this blog: A Helpmeet For Him. A call from my Savior.

Matthew loves to read my blog posts. He loves when I'm excited about something I have done. I love him more than I love sharing pictures with you. I love him more than I care about what you think of my home.

I am content to be a wife for my husband. I am content to go make the bed and then start dinner. I can always blog tomorrow.

I love you, Matthew Gabriel.