It all started on a Monday morning. Although, in actuality, it probably started the Sunday before… staying up until 1:00am the night before a school day was never a good idea. She knew better – but after all, she was organizing things for her son’s class party later in the week… that had to count for something!
Anyway, it was the usual scramble that morning. The three ring circus had begun. Breakfast, baths, last minute homework… it was nothing unusual. Sure, they were a few minutes behind – but that was nothing new either. As the clock ticked on, however, words got shorter, hair-brushing got a little rougher, smiles disappeared… we all know how it goes.
By the time they were heading out the door, she was frazzled and so was he. To make it all worse, school bus lights were already flashing up ahead! She scooped up her son and charged across the yard and down the hill to the bus stop. They were making good progress – until she tripped on a mass of roots, masked in the early morning dark. As they went tumbling to the ground together she let out a word that she instantly regretted. Pain seared through her leg but she was determined not to miss that bus.
Keenly aware of the neighbor’s gaze from across the street, she hobbled up and they jogged the rest of the way to the bus (which was waiting for them by that point). Her son hopped onto the bus and, lights flashing, he was gone. She stood waving weakly as they disappeared around the corner, leg throbbing and feelings of guilt washing over her. How was it possible to be so bad at parenting? How could she send her little one off to face the day after a morning like that? She limped back home with the weight of regret on her shoulders.
----------------------------------------------
Can you relate? We’ve all had days like this, haven’t we? Maybe not the same details, but certainly partnered with the same feelings of failure and shame. We tuck mornings like this away into our pocket, ashamed to share them with anyone for fear they find out just how bad a parent we are.
Well, this was actually my story… and as much as I hate to admit, it was just this week. My preference is certainly to keep the entire story to myself, harboring the guilt and determining once again to “do better next time.” This time around, however, the Lord gave me a big, aching wound on my leg to remind me that without him I fall. I fall gracelessly, hurting myself and those around me.
Who on Earth decided that we were fit to be parents to these precious little ones, anyway? Well, sweet friends, it was no one on Earth. It was God – Jesus, who knew our weakness before we even became parents. He knew we’d fail – and yet, he entrusted us with children – HIS children. Oh, the joy and pain of being a momma!!
It was another day to learn that without Him I am nothing. There is nothing good in me unless he puts it there. He’s given me a love for my children (and thank you Lord, love covers a multitude of sins!) and will equip me to serve them joyfully and wholeheartedly if I simply make myself available to Him and ask him to – daily. Constantly. Because I run out real quick! And one day apart from His strength and love, well – I fall on my face.
So, while waiting until mid morning to take my extended time in the Word is my preference, I know I need to set aside some time to pray before the kids are awake to start the day filled with Him – even if it’s just a few minutes.
by Olga Joyce Spivey
Anyway, it was the usual scramble that morning. The three ring circus had begun. Breakfast, baths, last minute homework… it was nothing unusual. Sure, they were a few minutes behind – but that was nothing new either. As the clock ticked on, however, words got shorter, hair-brushing got a little rougher, smiles disappeared… we all know how it goes.
By the time they were heading out the door, she was frazzled and so was he. To make it all worse, school bus lights were already flashing up ahead! She scooped up her son and charged across the yard and down the hill to the bus stop. They were making good progress – until she tripped on a mass of roots, masked in the early morning dark. As they went tumbling to the ground together she let out a word that she instantly regretted. Pain seared through her leg but she was determined not to miss that bus.
Keenly aware of the neighbor’s gaze from across the street, she hobbled up and they jogged the rest of the way to the bus (which was waiting for them by that point). Her son hopped onto the bus and, lights flashing, he was gone. She stood waving weakly as they disappeared around the corner, leg throbbing and feelings of guilt washing over her. How was it possible to be so bad at parenting? How could she send her little one off to face the day after a morning like that? She limped back home with the weight of regret on her shoulders.
----------------------------------------------
Can you relate? We’ve all had days like this, haven’t we? Maybe not the same details, but certainly partnered with the same feelings of failure and shame. We tuck mornings like this away into our pocket, ashamed to share them with anyone for fear they find out just how bad a parent we are.
Well, this was actually my story… and as much as I hate to admit, it was just this week. My preference is certainly to keep the entire story to myself, harboring the guilt and determining once again to “do better next time.” This time around, however, the Lord gave me a big, aching wound on my leg to remind me that without him I fall. I fall gracelessly, hurting myself and those around me.
Who on Earth decided that we were fit to be parents to these precious little ones, anyway? Well, sweet friends, it was no one on Earth. It was God – Jesus, who knew our weakness before we even became parents. He knew we’d fail – and yet, he entrusted us with children – HIS children. Oh, the joy and pain of being a momma!!
It was another day to learn that without Him I am nothing. There is nothing good in me unless he puts it there. He’s given me a love for my children (and thank you Lord, love covers a multitude of sins!) and will equip me to serve them joyfully and wholeheartedly if I simply make myself available to Him and ask him to – daily. Constantly. Because I run out real quick! And one day apart from His strength and love, well – I fall on my face.
So, while waiting until mid morning to take my extended time in the Word is my preference, I know I need to set aside some time to pray before the kids are awake to start the day filled with Him – even if it’s just a few minutes.
by Olga Joyce Spivey
.jpg)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment