Monday morning. Slick streets and snow to keep us home. The three-year-old has a wet bed. The one-year-old is getting into everything. Too many messes this morning. Too many kids in time-out.      I begin to cast about in frustration. What am I doing wrong? If only I work harder, can I have a perfect house? Perfect children? Perfect marriage?  Lord, what do You want from me?      I see the world passing me by out the window. So many of my friends are moving on, getting jobs, going back to school, changing themselves… And here I am—snowbound at home with three children, frayed around the edges.   Oh Lord, what do I need to do to please You? To have an organized home? To make my children stop squabbling? ‘What must I do to be saved’?      And then Jesus comes by. I hadn’t expected Him. But there He is, grinning at my door.      “May I come in, Phebe?”       Such a gentleman , I th...