I haven’t been giving my best. I’ve been lazy and distracted and preoccupied.

I’ve been serving up leftovers to my family while expecting they give their best.

Why should I expect my children to give their best if I only give them my leftovers?

Why should I expect unconditional love from my husband if I only give him leftovers?

Aaron asked me the other day when I’m going to start living the stuff I write on my blog.

Ouch. (said in my best ET voice)

That was a wakeup call for me. Sure, I struggle with living authentically. And I’ve been doing exactly what disgusts me in other people: preaching and quoting the Bible on social media and my blog and living a 180.

If my husband calls me out, who else is noticing? The kids.

God.

What about when I give God my leftovers?

Who am I kidding?

God should always get my best. Yet, I squeeze in a Bible devo on my iPhone app when I’m doing chores. I rush through a Bible story my kids beg me to read. I’m distracted when I should be listening and praying along to my kids’ prayers.

I’m a poor example to my family when I don’t give my best. I’m not intentional with my time. My family deserves quality and quantity.

When I give God my best, my leftovers are much more meaningful and purposeful for my family.

They don’t seem like leftovers so much as spillover of God’s love.

My family and blog are ministries. And I’m not doing that great a job.

Forgive me, God. Forgive me, family. Forgive me, readers.