But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. -2 Corinthians 12:9
Slow mornings. Early wake ups, a work-out, slow coffee, a big breakfast, more coffee with some good reading. It's my happy place. At least it was! It's also the thing I may miss the most from the 7 years Josh and I were married before kids. Those slow mornings are officially a "past time" and this isn't a "slow morning" season.
I know they will come again. And I know when a quiet morning hits me, and all of my babies are grown, Josh and I will look at each other and reminisce about the not so quiet Saturday mornings. We will smile and ache a little for what was. But, this isn't that season yet either.
Loud mornings. Loud early mornings! That's what our days are made of. You moms who have children that sleep until 7 or later, bless you! But, my boys take after my heart and we love mornings. There's something about accomplishing things in the dark of early morning before the sun peaks that fills me. Apparently, my boys feel the same way.
By 8:30 a.m. today, I had been up for over 3 hours, served breakfast and 2 snacks, changed multiple diapers, refereed a toddler on toddler battle over a trash truck, washed dishes, won a tickle battle, put laundry away, dug crayon bits out of a 1-year olds mouth, allowed my bathroom and closet to become a total disaster for the sake of clean teeth and brushed hair, and sat in 2 "time-outs" with my 3-year old for calling names.
By 10 a.m. I had wiped too many tears to count and I felt my body leaving my soul. I was about to lose my ever-loving mind and truthfully, in the moment, I couldn't have cared less. My 3-year old began to cry because I put too much toothpaste on his toothbrush after I had not put enough on it. Then it happened.
I screamed. Loud.
"STOP CRYING! STOOOOOOOPPPPP CRYYYYYYYING!"
To which my toddler calmly looked at me and said "Wow mom, I have really upset you. I can see how my crying, paired with Zekie's crying, ALL morning, would be overwhelming. I will stop now."
haha. Obviously not. They both looked up at me. Afraid. Shocked. I don't have a habit of screaming, but gosh it is in me. And it came out. And they cried harder. I took a deep breath, got down on my knees and held them both. Apologized a lot. Hugged them a lot. And in all of my effort, tried to repair the day. But, truthfully, the day has just been HARD.
I think if I would have taken a moment to just sit in the fact that this day was not going to meet my expectations I could have neatly nixed the mom scream adult tantrum. Maybe if I would have slowed down to see what they needed and measure what I had to give, I would have quickly realized that I couldn't do this on my own. Maybe turn a little worship music on for a regrouping dance party would have done the trick. Hind sight is 20/20 right?
I wish I would have turned on a show for my kiddos, to allow myself a moment to regroup. To pray. To stop pushing through and realize my weakness, my humanity. I could have stopped pouring from my empty tank and used the grace pool allotted to me from God. I could have put on His power and it may have overshadowed the weakness I felt within.
But I didn't. I failed. #momfail
The enemy would have loved for me to sit in this shame. But, God wanted me to see Him in my mess.
My friend and neighbor Lauren has open door rights to our home. She just gets me. And sometimes I think she can sense the shade of my heart. She stopped over this afternoon and as I divulged all of my morning failures, she brought me back to grace. She problem solved with me. And she figuratively stomped the shame right out of my home and heart. The day was only halfway over. My boys were fine! We were fine! But the enemy wanted me to sulk in my failure and not be fine.
The day continued to just be one of those hard days. But, the second half was wildly different from the first. Not because we became a photogenically happy group, but because I was able to lay down my expectations at the feet of Jesus and pick up His grace. The shame was gone and the Holy convicting work of my beautiful Savior had begun. I remembered my source of hope. I felt close to my source of strength. And so, we make beauty in the mess once again.
Be encouraged dear friends. Let God turn your failures into beauty. Let Him be your strength and you will not be able to do anything but shine light in the darkness of this world.
Love always,
Jessica
