An hour and a half later, we are downstairs on the couch pushing start on the second episode of Umi Zoomi (certainly not my choice). And the guilt sets in. It just snuggles up real close and plays with my hair. Blew it again, huh? Shocker. Lost your temper again, huh? Doing that a lot lately, aren’t you? Cartoons? Again? It’s not even 10:00, you couldn’t even make it til mid morning. Jude will now never talk beyond what he can say now. (Not supposed to watch tv til like 20, the pediatrics people say) and Elliot will, of course, be addicted to video games or porn because of this moment. (makes sense, right?)
Why can’t you be fun and play with them, savor the moments and all that? They are only little once, blah blah blah. What happened to being creative with them? But I guess that’s ok. You’re not really that kind of mom. Hot dogs again? Sick. Guess you don’t care about their fertility, or something like that.
And the list goes on. All day. And I sit. And wallow in it. I actually have a lot to say about said wallowing. And you will hear about it, I’m sure. But today. Today was a hard day. And tonight, as I gladly relented to my son’s pleas to snuggle with him, and as he and I confess our shortcomings from the day to one another, I feel that burning in my throat. As I lay there and “pet him” (his words for scratching his back), I’m just so mad at myself for letting those dumb lies win again. And again. And again. But then that face-crack cry of clarity.
Grace.
Long deep breath. Face cracks again, tears flow hard. I have an actual Savior of my soul. Once for all, forever. More so, it feels, for me this night. That soul Savior who works on me, and in me, and with me. Every. Single. Day. Holy cow, I forget He is in the trenches with me. Or maybe the truth is I don’t really believe it. Sit on that for a minute.
On those days where survival is all I can muster. The ones where the only way my hair doesn’t get wet, is because my Father is letting me stand on his back in the deep end. Grace.
When the weeks go by and He lets the distance between us stand there silently, waiting patiently to see my face. Grace.
So when I let the boys watch too much Team Umi Zoomi, or eat hot dogs sequential meals in a row, He tells me it’s ok. Because grace. Grace laughs at cartoons and excess sodium. Nitrates are nothing when faced with a God who parts seas, and causes oceans to roar and swell.
To the mom who loses the battle with her patience over and over and over again.
To the college student who made a poor choice, again, last night.
To the single woman who struggles again today, with bitterness or jealousy or insecurity.
To the wife who didn’t even try and fight her selfishness or greed or comparison.
On and on and on.
So. We. Do. Not. Lose. Heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Our salvation is for eternity. But it’s also for the everyday. So put your feet on the floor.
Today was a hard day. “Lord, help me today. Surely I will need you.”
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This article originally appeared at MadeFrank.com.
