I made a statement in our Sunday School class last week that I was the best and worst Christian during the years when my kids were little. I actually stole that from a missionary friend, Robin Tinley, who also said that after you give birth to your third child, no one will ever invite you over with your kids again! Brutal truth was a quality of hers!
The reason I was the worst Christian then was because I never had time to read my Bible with any truly deep study. I never had time to go into my prayer closet for intense intercession. Good grief, it wasn't even safe at my house to close my eyes when I prayed! And if I ever made it to church on time, it was only because I had decided we would forgo: a) breakfast, b) shoes, or c) both!
I was my closest to The Lord because I was desperate for His constant companionship! I read my Verse of the Day Calendar at least 10 times a day, just to keep my mind above the fray. I prayed sentence prayers constantly, all day long, all night long, without ceasing. "Lord, don't let Sam step on a spider. You know how he has a reaction, but we live by an open field." "Father, Zack has another ear infection. Give him comfort from the pain." "Jesus, my Hayley girl is 3 going on 30. Please give me wisdom."
I was so tempted to "hang out" somewhere when I was late again to SS. But I knew I needed the fellowship and nourishment from the Scripture. So I suffered the jokes and gentle ribbing of the preacher's wife being late again, knowing my husband had been at the church since 6:30am preparing for a long day, and I got my family ready, in the car, and into the nursery/classroom by myself.
But, as I look back on it, I see a very strange miracle was taking place: my Verse of the Day, my sentence prayers, and my distracted worship were my 5 loaves and 2 fish. God took my "whatever I time I have" and blessed it and broke it and multiplied it. He met my needs, answered my prayers, gave me hope, and implanted wisdom. He wasn't mad at me; He was proud of me.