the boy is in the bathroom. you, know... in the bathroom with that lovely kind of "in the bathroom" sickness. the baby is crying at my feet. the daughter trips over the guitar and says her stomach hurts. i'm trying to talk to jason-- my partner, my bestie-- about the day. i'm supposed to get groceries. i can't do that. we're supposed to be at someone's home for dinner. can't do that? right? we briefly discuss over the noise, he shoots me an encouraging smile, and then- do you know what happens? he leaves. he <does what he is supposed to do and> walks out the door. he goes to work.
i'm left standing in the kitchen.
the clamor remains with me. right beside me.
and i find myself faced with a very important decision.
how is this whole situation going to play out today? what will this day be like (feel free to break into The Sound of Music-- it's appropriate)?
what kind of mamma is going to show up for these kiddos?
i stood and thought. stood for a minute more. thought some more. (still mayhem behind me, friends. mayhem.)
it feels so easy to take pictures of these cuties:
but in moments like this morning, all i tend to see is myself. what i need. what i want. what i prefer. what looks nicer-better-easier.
and these faces still surround my ankles, knees and side.
do i truly hold to the hope that i say is true?
hope, not just for the miraculous gift of salvation, but hope for days like this? reasons and purposes for the challenges facing me in that kitchen this morning?
today i could run my hands over my face, take a deep breath, look to the heavens and remember.
it's true. what He says is true.
i have hope that never fades or fails.
so we stayed home today. we opened the windows and felt the breeze. there was book reading and knitting. there were still moments of frustration and sin-- don't think they all went away.
but He helped me see the truth this morning.
this mamma gig is no joke. never have i seen the ugliness of my heart more plainly. it's nasty in there. i'm thankful He is patiently reminding me. helping me stay at His feet.
i'm sure days like today will come again-- sooner than i would like. i hope i'm able to make the same choice as today. to settle in to what HE has for me-- to not fight, kick, and yell for what I want for MY day.
one last thing: so thankful that even on days when i make the utterly wrong choice... He remains faithful. remains loving. remains to help. and gives me more days.
He's so good to us.