I gaze upon an unmade bed
And see a tousled curly head
With sparkling eyes and tiny hands
That hold a mountain of demands

And then I look around to see
Ten messes staring back at me.
I'm tempted to sit down and cry
But I'll wait until the towels dry.

I wander on from room to room
With mop and rag and corn-husk broom
And finish just in time to find
The dishes still a day behind.

I stand beside the kitchen sink
And feel a need to stop and think.
I wonder why I labor so
And wish that I could somehow know.

I feel another presence there
And smooth my husband's tangled hair;
I breathe a sigh from deep within
And match his soft good-morning grin.

And slowly I begin to see
The Father's hand stretched out to me,
And notice in my loved-ones' eyes
The simple truth to all the whys.

I have a Christian home to keep
That's more than meals and floors to sweep;
More than laundry, tubs, and walls,
More than rugs and tidy halls.

Making home a haven for
My family is not a chore,
For they will see the Father's love
In hands adorned with latex gloves.

I can show His heart to them
And turn their tender hearts to Him.
This home will shield us from the storm
As I keep the homefire's embers warm.

Lisa owns an at home business called HeartWords. She writes poetry and prose for all occasions. She has done birthday, dedication, memorial, anniversary, encouragement, and other types using specific personal information. "It's something I love to do, and it has been an enjoyable venture."

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