I stumbled into the living room that morning, groggy and guilty. We had stayed up way too late again – and the messy room proved it. We had all just gotten up last night, left our empty tea cups and dessert plates, and went to bed. Would we never learn? Would we never become the disciplined, well-ordered family I longed for us to be?
Now I had to face a full day of trying to get unpacked from our trip, do laundry, tackle a refrigerator of scary-looking items and sour milk, go to the grocery store, and then have people over for dinner – all on much-less-than-adequate sleep. Would I never learn?
But just as I began to kick myself, I saw them. Right alongside all the other teenage debris strewn about, open Bibles lay on the sofa and loveseat as well. As my bleary eyes adjusted, so did my mind. Now I remembered.
We had gotten into another late night discussion. This time it was about the gifts of the Spirit. Are they all still operational? Or not? How do we know? What does Scripture say? Why do some Christians believe one thing and others something else? Which is true?
Pages were turning, honest questions were raised and grappled with. Finally at midnight, I had to leave all the grappling to Rand and the kids. Even the wonders at Pentecost couldn’t keep my eyelids from drooping!
But now as I stood there looking at those open Bibles, suddenly I didn’t feel so tired. While my family could certainly use a little more discipline and better living habits, I realized that my messy living room showed a spiritual habit that was developing just fine. Would I really want it any other way?