Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Brutal

Today was hard.  Brutal.  Sometimes being a mom is super hard.  Sometimes life in general is hard.  It doesn't mean that I'm failing as a mother or that I'm doing life wrong.  It is just hard, because it is.  As one of my favorite author's, Glennon Melton, says, "Life is brutiful."  So even though today there were tears and moments of panic where I thought I might literally lose all my hair because I will pull it out (and if there were any left, it would all be gray), there were also those moments through the day where Jesus whispered to me, "I didn't forget you.  I am right here with you.  I care about the little things that are on your heart."  And I am also fairly certain that he reminded me to take a lot of deep breaths.

On a day where I was pretty sure everything that could have gone wrong did, he reminded me of his love in the little things like my oldest son asking if he was being a good helper to me.  Or my middle son demonstrating his truly loving heart (in between temper tantrums).  Or my toddler who I am pretty sure is trying to break me, showing me pure joy and giving me kisses that he is usually very stingy with after we had been apart a few [much needed] hours.  Or hearing my baby's beautiful heartbeat.  Or having my husband tell me to turn on a movie for the big kids and go take a nap.  (He is worth his weight in gold.)  Or maybe it's by showing me that the friends I am blessed with and sometimes feel distant from because we are all living this hard life really are right there when you need them the most.  Or maybe it's the friend who lets you cry like the crazy hormonal lady you are, but still makes you feel like your reasons are completely valid.  Or maybe it's the fact that I did hear Jesus when he told me to take those breaths.  Or getting to sit and watch my kid do his best or even struggle in something that he loves.  Those things, those are the way Jesus shows his love to me on these hard days.  So, who needs a burning bush?  The only fires I like include s'mores anyway.

As for tomorrow, I have hope.  It's going to be a great day.  Or maybe it'll be hard and brutal and crazy, but at least I know that even if it is, there will be beautiful miracle moments in there somewhere.  But maybe, just maybe if it is like today, I'll dig through the hard stuff and breathe in one of my miracle moments, small as it may seem.  I hope.