Rainy Days & Mondays

This post is neither humorous nor entertaining. It is not cute or funny. But today it is my reality.

Today my own weaknesses and shortcomings have repeatedly smacked me in the face. It's been one of those days that make you want to throw in the towel, to finally admit defeat - on so many levels.

This parenting thing isn't easy; in fact, it's the most difficult challenge I've ever faced. I feel spent, used up, exhausted. It's like when I'm making applesauce - I'm the dried out pulp that's left in the strainer after all the good stuff has been pounded out. I've become this mechanical thing that goes through it's programmed motions: keep them fed and watered, do the laundry, pick up toys, clean Zeke's poop out of the bathtub, take another crayon out of Kari's mouth, wipe the chalk drawings off the sides of the car, do the bedtime routine, try not to scream at the constant stream of whining/crying that never ever ends. Take a few precious moments to vent before falling into bed, gearing up for the whole cycle to start back up tomorrow.

At the present moment, I feel very certain that I cannot do this.

But tonight, just before we turn off the lights, we will go into their rooms to check on them. In their sleep they will look so peaceful, so vulnerable, so angelic, and as I lean down to kiss each soft cheek and hear a sleepy "I love you too, Mommy," I will fall in love with them all over again.

Days like these are hard, but necessary. They show me once again, how desperately I need my Savior. How in my weakness, He is strong. He took the punishment for every one of my sins, having never sinned Himself, so I can be close to Him and spend eternity with Him. And there lies my strength - not in myself (I'd be dead meat!) but in Him. The one who defeated death itself. Days like these force me to fling myself once again at the foot of His cross and beg Him for both grace and mercy.

Thank you, Jesus, for bad days.