I see you. You’re having the crap day to end all crap days and nothing’s even happening. It’s just normal mom stuff, but all at once. All the kids are yelling at each other and you. You’re parenting like a boss. The goal is calm, consistent, and compassionate and you have at least two of those at all times, but compassion is hard when the preternatural calm is covering rage at the little people who managed to simultaneously misplace their excrement for the entire morning.
You’re doing a good job. The number of times you haven’t used profanity is staggering. Your kids are alive and learning important things, and I’m convinced these days are the most important kind of days for developing their character (and probably yours).
I know this is the part where I am bound by honor and the title of my blog to remind you to look for little gifts of grace around you, because, in the words of Junior Asparagus, “a thankful heart is a happy heart.” I’m not going to discourage this, but I want to acknowledge you might not be there right now. I can huffily list off blessings like clean water and a warm home and healthy children while continuing to daydream about getting an injury that results in a hospital stay for a week or two. Listing off things I should be grateful for in this kind of moment only adds guilt for my apparent ingratitude.
Can I offer you a different gentle reminder?
Today, looking around isn’t fixing anything. There are little people all around that you would gladly die for, but today, it feels like they’re sucking your life like The Machine in Princess Bride. It’s extraordinarily slow and painful.
Looking within isn’t any better. There are good intentions and a whole lotta sin. There’s consistent falling short. Looking within today finds shame and self-doubt.
So look up. Do whatever you need to do to fix your eyes on Jesus. Today, my angle was a well-trained Andrew Peterson station on Pandora. I am evidently not good at training my children, but my Pandora stations? Perfection.
The words started to sink in as I continued to go about my painfully ridiculous day. My focus started to rise off the madness, toward the God who loves me and put skin on to be with me. My children were still shrieking, kicking, and sassing. One of them peed in a place that was neither diaper nor toilet. But the goodness and bigness of God started to dwarf the issues I wade through in my home.
Nothing is solved here. A few things have settled because half of my children still nap. (Jesus, thank you for that.) The other two finished school and are rotting their brains on My Little Pony, which is annoying background noise, but less annoying than having my offspring yell at me while I try to help them. It’s better, but it’s temporary.
But I know what isn’t temporary: the character of God. As I keep my focus on him and the things he has done and promised to do and his exquisite care for each of us, my heart settles.
So, while it feels a little trite, I want to remind you to try it if you’re having the worst kind of regular day. He sees you. He knows your struggles. He remembers you are but dust. He is for you. He will glorify himself in all things, including, miraculously, your crappy day.