Yesterday was one of those super challenging days as a mom -- the most testing in my 8 years of motherhood I think. I know they are bound to happen from time to time, but I wasn't expecting it. There were no warning signs.
Quite the contrary actually.
The day started out quite wonderfully. I read my Bible and had a great time of prayer. I felt strong, refreshed, and prepared for the day ahead.
The day unraveled life an afghan.
-The rain prevented me from my anticipated run.
-My Plan B workout dvd wouldn't run.
-Middleson woke up far too early.
-All 3 sons quarreled and fought and yelled and hit. Even newcomer Jace was swinging his arms in battle. Really? What in the world is going on?
-One un-named son intentionally did something to the computer during school that required a call to tech support and a much-too-long delay in school.
-My afternoon bath (since I didn't get a shower) to pull-myself-together was filled with COLD water.
My reaction to all of the above was less than ideal. Afterall, it was Good Friday. In my mind I conjured up a peaceful day of reflecting on the death of Jesus. Of all days, I should have been on my best behavior on Good Friday, right?
By late afternoon, weary and battled, I made an attempt to reign in my soldiers. We sat together reading the account of what happened to Jesus on Good Friday. We spent our entire day in turmoil -- yuck. Gross. I felt guilty and condemned. The day felt wasted.
Yet, the message of the cross was never clearer. I sin. I fall short. My sin was before me, but so was my Savior! I came face to face with my inadequacies and my feeble attempts at "getting it right".
All of my sins were nailed to the cross. I bear them no more!
His mercy and grace cover me. His love never changes. He loves me the same when I have on my new Easter dress and black shiny shoes on my way to church as he did yesterday in my imperfect mothering. He died that I might live.
He brings hope to a bad mom on Good Friday.
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