Jesus is Lord.

Most mornings, I am not thinking about who is Lord. I am thinking about whether there is milk.

I've usually been woken up very abruptly by a child shouting at me or jumping on me. There's no time to have my own thought before requests come flying.

Making breakfast, getting everyone dressed, adjudicating arguments that Theo and Jesse are having over a toy. The mornings are fun, but they can be a bit intense.

Then, when there's a tiny bit of quiet while they're eating their porridge and I sip my coffee, the list of things I need to do for work that day pops up.

What am I going to write for today's devotional? A reader has written in sharing a very difficult situation they're going through, and I need to respond thoughtfully. A customer's print arrived bent by the delivery company, and I need to get them a replacement.

There's not a second to think about anything else.

If you had stopped me on the way to the kettle to make a coffee and asked, I would have told you without a second thought that Jesus is Lord. I believe it with my whole heart.

But there is a gap between the things I believe when I have time to think and the things that run me on a normal, busy day.

It is not that I have pushed Him off the throne. I would never do that on purpose.

It is more that I let life get in the way of seeing Him there.

He does not climb down off the throne the moment my morning gets loud. He is Lord while the porridge is going cold, while I'm wrestling a 1-year-old to put socks on, while I'm responding to a difficult email. I just stop looking up long enough to remember it.

But Paul says that one day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Every knee. Not just the ones bowed in church on a Sunday with the music playing, but the knee picking up toys off a messy living room floor on the most forgettable morning of the week.

He is already Lord of that morning. Lord of my Sundays and my Tuesdays, of the grand far-off things I was never really holding and the small, near ones I move through half awake. A busy day does not make Him any less in charge of it. It just makes Him easier to miss.

So before the day fully takes off, I can lift my eyes for a moment and remember who is on the throne. Not to put Him there, but to see that He never left it. He is Lord in the messy middle of an ordinary day, not just the heights of it.

Jesus is Lord of all of it. Even if I forgot to buy milk last night.