Kaboom

I was a ticking time bomb today, and my timer just zeroed out.

Kaboom.

I probably need to warn you up front that this post will not be very funny. I'm sure I will find something from today to laugh at later on, but for now a day like this leaves me closer to tears.

My children have been fighting all day. All. Day. I didn't really know that 2, 4, and 5-year-olds could be so mean. The hitting, the pushing, the name calling, the screaming, the crying. It's just been too much.

My husband and I work super-extra hard on fostering an atmosphere of love and peace in our home. We try very hard to bring everything, whether a success or failure, peacefulness or dissension, back to Jesus. How would Jesus handle it? How would Jesus love someone who is unkind to Him? How would Jesus respond to hatefulness?

And some days, I feel like it's all for naught.

I know this isn't true, and that every single seed that is planted is there to ultimately grow into part of a flourishing garden of godliness, but man is it hard to keep that in mind on days like this!

It's so hard, isn't it, to see our children make poor choices? It's so hard to see them operate in utter selfishness, missing the joy and blessings that come in serving and loving others first?

But then, mustn't God feel the same way when we behave just like our children?

This should bring us some hope, really, the knowing that we can be just as ugly and just as selfish as our children are.

We know better. But we still behave this way. And we will struggle with this until the day we meet Jesus face to face, and our ugliness and our selfishness are wiped away and we are truly holy. Perfected. I can't wait until that day.

Moms, we can't make our children get it. We can't make them holy. And we must cling to this truth in the hard times. We must remember this when we want to give up.

Our job is not to make them kind. Our job is not to make them gentle. Our job is not even to make them love Jesus.

No.

Our job is to show them the love and grace of Jesus, and to pray fervently and constantly that they will catch a glimpse of His love and majesty and fall in love with Him, too. Our job is to openly and transparently share with them our need for Jesus, and to honestly live our lives in front of them as the sinners-turned-sinners-who-love-Jesus-and-want-to-be-better that we are.

Lord, remind us on days like today that all have sinned and fall short of your glory. Remind us that our children are cut from our cloth, and that the sin we see in them is the same sin that resides in us, and that there is hope for us all yet. Remind us that You are writing the story of redemption for each one of our children, and that You do amazing, miraculous things. You change hearts. You see beauty in this ugliness. You are all about taking what is unholy and pouring Your cleansing blood over it until it is drenched in your holiness and without blemish.

Remind us on days like today that You love us and promise to equip us.

You are good and faithful (Psalm 100:5):

"For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all generations."

Amen?

Amen.

If there is anything I can find to laugh at it's this:

These are the "letters" my kids wrote to me tonight after I had called it quits on motherhood and retreated to my bedroom to eat dinner alone, leaving them with Daddy. He (wisely) had them write me apology notes.  Sutton's was a happy face with holes poked out for the eyes and his name scrawled up top. Emerson's was a note that quasi-phonetically said, "I am sorry for making you so frustrated, Mommy. Love, Emerson."

Precious.

Emerson just came in to me to kiss me goodnight.  She made sure to tell me that, while both letters were sweet, to make sure I noticed that hers is a lot longer, because she loves me more and she is "the greatest."

*sigh*

You CAN feel free to laugh at that!