So yesterday one child, who shall remain nameless here, threw such a mighty tantrum just before dinner that he/she threw up. And nothing says, "I love and appreciate you, Mom" like vomit on white carpet. Thank you, Aaron, for cleaning it up while I cried over the grill.
I had hoped that today would be a clean-slate kind of day. We would push the reset button and wake up to new possibilities, new mercy - maybe even new hearing! Today, however, was not my day. One child woke up earlier than the other and started watching a show for which the other had not given approval, and so it began. A hunger strike. Marathon complaining. Repeated requests to get ready for school met with a disgruntled kid staring into the abyss. We get into the car without jackets - I forgot to encourage them to wear them, so I was rebuked for "not letting them have coats" on such a brisk morning.
On the drive I began my speech: "Guys, clearly we have had a rough morning, but that doesn't mean we have to have a bad day. All of us are human and we make mistakes and forget things," I began. Somewhere in the monologue I reassured them that even when I correct them I am doing so out of love.
"You guys will never know how much I love you," I said, adding for emphasis, "I would die for you."
"Well, why don't you just die?" one of my angels said into my good ear.
I looked back to see a smirk. The kid didn't mean it - of course he/she didn't. But that really didn't matter in the moment. I cried. I prayed for them in carpool as usual, only sobbing. They didn't say a word. They just hopped out of the car and trotted into the building like any other morning.
I returned home to lament to my unsuspecting husband how life was just a wreck. Case in point, we received notice Friday that our yard is in violation of the homeowner's association guidelines because of our epic weeds. They were really impressive, although I doubt our neighbors would describe them as such. But if our home is a mess outside, it's because we can't get a handle on what's going on inside long enough to address it. It's cluttered, I'm behind on ironing, stacks of papers litter my kitchen counter, and then there are our offspring. Homework often is a tear-filled nightmare. We can't keep up with events, emails and stuff to send in for their classrooms. Goodness, I can't even get into their various and sundry issues, let alone how they interact with my own.
So today I'm feeling defeated, but I do recognize that it's just an emotion. Emotions aren't good or bad in and of themselves, and thank the Lord they pass. I am praying for strength through Christ, for perspective and perseverance. For starters, the Lord brought this to my attention in today's reading. It's from Joanna Weaver's Having a Mary Spirit in a Martha World, and I hope it encourages you as it did me:
St. Augustine once preached a sermon in which he proposed a kind of self-test to see if we truly love God:
"Suppose God proposed to you a deal and said, 'I will give you anything you want. You can possess the whole world. Nothing will be impossible for you... Nothing will be a sin, nothing forbidden. You will never die, never have pain, never have anything you do not want and always have everything you do want--except for just one thing: you will never see my face.'
Augustine closed with a question:
"Did a chill rise in your hearts when you heard the words, 'you will never see my face?' That chill is the most precious thing in you; that is the pure love of God."
I want that chill to resonate in me because on days like this I so want to see the Lord's face. If the whole world crumbles beneath my feet today, let me see His face.
