Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Reality Check - Some Days are Just Not Pretty

Some days feel unending.  I feel battle worn, tired, almost numb to the defiance, bickering, and flat out disbodience.  Matthew tag teamed for a little as I escaped after lunch to my room.  I put the pillow over my head, set my timer, and prayed that noone would knock on the door.  
Earlier I was able to clean out a school bin, not because I really wanted to, but because it kept me focused and in my seat rather than reacting improperly to a very angry almost seven year old who thought he needed to lift and drop the school bench, throw pencils, yell at me, and basically refuse to do any work.  Reagan did not help as he,  as with many other four year olds, deemed the word "no" as his right.  Um.  NO.  
I know that not every moment of my day was horrible.  There had to be some sweet moments.  Right?  Kinda can't think of any at the moment.  
Dinner was quick.  Chick fi la (thanks to my sister and her family) was my choice as there was no way I could cook.  
Yes, the kids got outside.  Thank you, Jesus.  Of course they still came in and out and in and out and in and out.  They fought about wearing a coat (it's 24 degrees today) and couldn't find any gloves.  You get the idea.  When they were out, they were fighting.  When they were in they were fighting.  Oh. My. Word.
Lord, why do I feel so defeated?  I read your word this morning.  The Israelites blew it daily too.  Not just a little, but REALLY BIG.  Yet, you were faithful.  Please show me a glimpse of your faithfulness after such a messy day.  
I sat at the school table with the three littles this morning and prayed with them, over them.  Lord, I asked for you to guard our hearts, to keep Satan at bay.  I need to be a good mommy to my kids despite all of our hurts.  At the end of the day, I know the truth that Satan cannot win, but I certainly do not feel like there was any other victory today.  Deep in the trenches can be dark, smelly, infested, slimy.  Just being today was hard let alone fighting for my family.
That's it, isn't it?  I need to put the armor on more carefully to protect me in the battle.  You need to do the fighting.  You said it before that I just need to be still and you will do the fighting.  How do I do that day after day?  I mean, really.  One child peed his pants, another pooped his.  One kid deliberately spilled the box of marbles, looking me straight in the eye, right after I told him to put the game away.  One kid decided to jump on the couch the second (literally) I stepped into the bathroom.  
Picking my battles is one things.  Feeling like life is a giant battle is another.

I need you, Jesus, so desperately.  

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