today.

 

An unedited stream of consciousness post.  On purpose.

It has not particularly been a horrible day, but I can tell that I did not prepare my soul for a morning with a needy two year old.  I am certain that I have not had my fill of the Lord’s strength and his blessings of love and patience.  And my little boy, he could tell also, which is no doubt part of the cause for his moodiness.

He’s good at sensing things and when I feel frustrated and overwhelmed, he knows and he doesn’t like that, so he’s extra clingy which in return pushes me further over the edge.  Because, I just want space and peace and quiet and I don’t want him jumping all over me and wanting attention.  I want to be selfish, because that is how I’m feeling.  He wants his mommy to be happy and present and fun.

It was a bad combination.

Plus, I thought it would be possible to balance the checkbook and pay bills while he was awake, which I obviously knew better… but I thought why not.  And then the bank statement just never seems to match completely to my register and that frustrates me.  I realize math is not my strong point, so I recalculate and still the numbers don’t match.  It’s one of my biggest pet peeves.  I sure didn’t need to add that to my already exhausted self, but I had a few bills to pay today and it had to be done.  No one likes paying bills, but I’m so thankful that we can pay ours and on time, and for a husband who works two jobs, so I don’t complain. 

The bills were paid and the checkbook was balanced to the best of my ability, still why don’t the numbers match.  The bank statement says we have a little more, my register says less.  I tend to go on the safe side and say less… but just for once… I’d really like those numbers to match.  And then I’m again thankful that there are positive numbers in the checkbook and I’m not wondering how will the bills get paid.  But in my humanity,  in a moment of weakness, the little boy wants juice and not milk and throws his cup.  There’s no reason for my overly irritated response, because no response would be better. But out of me pours shortness and less than patience.

He willingly goes to his room for a nap, but wants to play and stand on the bed.  He doesn’t respond well to spanking, because he doesn’t like tension and harshness.  He’s a sensitive spirit and I’m sure that he will be a tool used for me to be aware of my own attitude and actions.   

And now he naps or at least is playing very quietly in his bed and my hunger screams because I waited too long to eat and I just want to pull my hair out, not because everything is wrong, but because I hate the way I feel inside.  I’m empty and tired and selfish and grumpy.  I feel irritated and consider a rare thought, that maybe today I would prefer to not be a stay at home mom.  Maybe today, I would prefer to be surrounded with adults who have hopefully a greater sense of reason than  2 year old.  But I know those thoughts are just the frustration and I don’t dwell on them. 

Part of me just wants to take a nap, to cry and sleep and that is all.  Part of me is just itching for the moment when my very tired husband comes home to say, I NEED A BREAK.  But even in the midst of my swarming thoughts and dramatic emotions I know the real problem.  I’ve neglected the source, my source of life, of strength, of hope, of power, of patience, of love, and without that source, all this junk that I’m feeling will never go away.    I know better than to neglect it and I don’t even have a good excuse.  I know that waiting for me in His ever-open arms is all the love and strength that I need.  I know that through Him I am capable of being a better mommy today and always.  I know that through Him, I can not just consider my own desires, but set aside my selfishness for a tired, hardworking husband… who more than anything doesn’t need to walk in the door to a wife who is empty and in need of rescue. 

I eat my lunch emotionally and sit in the silence trying to drink it in as fast as possible.  But I feel like I’m not really getting air.  I just need this.  Right now.  And I feel sorry and frustrated for myself. Me. Me. Me.  And then through the halls, I hear a door slam and another cruel and unloving argument from the downstairs neighbors.  I hear angry jests and brokenness all the way from downstairs into my own home.  The desperation in their voices and the malicious exchanges are not resolved and another door slams.

And in that moment, I close my eyes and actually begin to feel like the air is making its way in, filling me, calming me… and allowing the chaos to settle and a great assurance comes rushing into my soul.  I stop and a few tears trickle down my cheek and I release my shoulders and burdens to the heavens and softly say,

Thank you for my life.

In that brief moment, after I say a quick prayer for the broken and loud neighbors, clarity fills me once again. 

My life is beautiful.  My husband is amazing.  My little boy is a dream.  I love staying home with him.  I am so grateful that I have a checkbook to balance and can pay my bills on time.  I am so happy that my life is not filled with strife, anger, hurt, and pain.  I am beyond blessed that I have a marriage that honors God and a husband is who a kind, patient, and loving man of God.  I am so fortunate that our home is not filled with stress and tension and that our little boy can be raised in a safe, happy, home where perfect love casts out fear and because of that, he can be whole.  I may be tired, but I’m not the only one.  I knew better than to balance the checkbook while he was awake and would want my attention.  I know he prefers juice to milk, this is nothing new, why should it frustrate me.  And I know better than to wait too long to eat because I am an ever worse version of myself when hungry.  I know that all the frustrations, the building angst, the exhaustion can be released and I can trade them all in for love, peace, patience, and joy.  I know that all I have to do is ask, to bask in his presence, to shut off the rest of the world and just be.  I know I can find the strength I need in his truth and love, as his spirit washes over my own selfishness.  All I have to do is ask.

Because, he’s been here the whole time, watching me irrationally try to run on empty, waiting for me to remember that I don’t need to do it on my own and that I really just need him.

I stop again to breathe in the truth that I know and release the foolishness that I have created.  Then, I let these words bring life into my soul.

He loves us, oh how he loves us.  Oh, how he loves.

{Liv