Repetition's Value

Life is a circle.

I haven’t kept track how many

times I have washed the same dishes or

mopped the same floors or laundered the same

clothes. I only know that I often wield my dishrag or

mop and almost daily I cram piles of dirty duds into my

hungry machine. Much of life as a stay-at-home mom feels

repetitive. Today I listened to my second grader recite identical

passages her brother memorized two years ago. Another child is

watching, biding his time until he is big enough to quote Beatitudes

and portions of the Psalms. I teach him the same lessons I instilled in
his siblings: Colors. Numbers. Please. Thanks. Kindness. Obedience.

I could find these endless cycles depressing. Empty or meaningless.

But then I remember that God does the same things, repeatedly.

His promise hangs on repetition: As long as earth remains, day

And night, snow and heat, summer and winter will continue.

Perhaps God created cycles to showcase His promises

and His dependable, enduring, stable character.

My cyclical life becomes my daily hint

of God Himself.