Tired Mom

Some nights I grow weary. I fall into bed physically unable to move and mentally unable to rest. My mind wanders constantly to the lengthy list of tasks yet to be completed. I ache to find purpose and wonder if my life resembles that of a hamster caught on an exercise wheel. Rest finally comes.

Renewed with a new day before me, I read Ephesians 4:1:
“Therefore I, a prisoner for serving the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of your calling, for you have been called by God.”

I admit I claim imprisonment at times. I long for all of our clothes to be clean and in their rightful place. I want dishes that clean themselves and put themselves neatly away. I could find freedom from dirty floors, dirty bathrooms and dust all together. It would also be helpful if my kids would never spill anything, say anything offensive and obey my every word.

No matter how hard my day, I am no prisoner. I am free. I am free in Christ. I am called to be a mom. The mom of 3 incredible children, God’s children. While those children come with a ton of work, I’ve been called. I must lead a life worthy of my calling. So, I will wash clothes, dishes, counters and floors. I will clean up spills while reminding myself and my children not to cry over spilled milk. I will correct speech and behavior. I will encourage, teach, love, bandage wounds, chauffeur, cook, and pray over my children. I will do this because I must lead a life worthy of my calling, for I have been called by God.

 

I’m Sorry

Confession: I’m a yeller by nature. Only on my game am I the mom I want to be. I envision quietly speaking to my child’s heart by looking them in the eyes. At the end of our cordial conversation, my words would be met with instant obedience, a child’s repentant heart and a big hug.

But, I’m not always on my game. Searching a disorganized counter, I search for the car key. A glance at the giant clock within my view heightens my anxiety. Late. Again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see it. A child wistfully playing unaware of the dilemma we find ourselves in. She begins whistling. I don’t like whistling. I especially don’t like whistling while I’m searching for the object that frees us from this capture.

STOP WHISTLING, PLEASE. As if yelling “please”, excuses me from yelling at this little one.

CAN’T YOU SEE I’M LOOKING FOR MY KEY? Knowing that “please” didn’t work, I try to reason with a preschooler.

Moments later, that little precious girl of mine, says, “Here’s the key, Mommy. I was holding it special for you.”

I never asked my preschooler if she had seen the key. I went on thinking finding the key was Mom Work and yet, I yelled at her when she went about doing Preschooler Work. There was only one thing to do.

I asked my little one to sit on my lap and I apologized. I told her I was wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have asked nicely. I asked for her forgiveness. She forgave my repentant heart and we shared that hug. Sometimes the moms provide the discipline and sometimes my kids provide me the discipline I need.

So, I encourage you, Momma, apologize when you need to. Matthew 12:25 tells us, “Every kingdom that fights against itself will be destroyed. Every city or family that is divided against itself will not stand.” (emphasis mine)

Then, when you receive forgiveness, Rock On, Momma, Rock On!