Lately, I’ve been muttering this little thing under my breath.

“It never ends.”

When I look at the sink and there are more dishes to wash . . . “It never ends.”

When I just finished laundry and the basket is already overflowing . . . “It never ends.”

When the groceries are already running low and it’s time to go to the store again . . . “It never ends.”

When I just picked up the living room only to discover another snack wrapper, another plate, another shoe, another blanket laid across the floor . . . “It never ends.”

When dinner time comes around and I just fixed lunch . . . “It never ends.”

When the floors are sticky even though I just mopped the day before . . . “It never ends.”

When I’m done working, but there is still so much more work to be done . . . “It never ends.”

But every time I say it, there’s this little voice in the back of my mind that reminds me that this is a lie. Because it does.

It does end.

And I know this sounds somber, but it’s the truth.

Life goes on and on until it doesn’t. Until suddenly it stops. And I know this all too well.

I imagine what it would be like if it did end and suddenly those burdens become symbols of my biggest blessings. The dishes, the clothes, the cooking, the things that “never end” represent the family, the children, the job, and the life that I’m so thankful for. Things that have made this life worth living.

So maybe it’s OK that the laundry basket overflows. And that the dishes keep appearing in the sink.

Maybe it’s OK if the blanket stays on the floor and the floors are sticky.

Maybe it “never ends” is more beautiful than it first appears.

Maybe it means I don’t have to keep living like I want it to.

Maybe it means I don’t have to do it all and I don’t have to make this house look like it’s not lived in.

Maybe it means I can take a step back and just enjoy this season of life where things never end and overflow.

Maybe it means I can let the weight of expectations fall gently around me.

Maybe my time would be better suited in embracing this mess instead of always trying to clean it up. That way when the “never ends” ends I won’t have any regrets.

Originally published on the author’s Facebook page

Ever wondered why tired mothers stay up so late? It’s simple.