I know You already know this, but today was a long day.
Certainly, my day cannot compare to Your day. Listening to the massive and trivial issues of the entire human race is something I cannot even comprehend.
But the day started off a little funny when my mom called to say my dad had some sort of episode this morning. We’re not clear what happened and he seems to be fine now, but the fragility of life is in sharp contrast with the doubts and what-ifs and worst case scenarios that go through my mind.
I’m really quite gifted at fretting. Maybe You can help with that?
The weather turned even colder today – which is really enjoyable. But I’m now imagining a long winter in 821 square feet with two adults, three children, a Great Dane and two poodles and it makes me very tired.
I was looking at Facebook and saw an acquaintance post about You. Her friends were vicious in the comments… it’s obvious they don’t have a relationship with You and they’ve been hurt by the injustices they see in the world. I know You have Your ways and timing, but, Lord, it was hard to see so much hurt and animosity, even with a sideways glance.
Later today Tres got smacked in the eye with a golf club Uno was swinging. It was an accident but now Tres has a serious shiner. And then A-Baby tried to help cook the pizza by opening the oven door and I had that flash of irrational fear she was going to burn her hand off and be permanently maimed so I pulled her away from the oven hollering, “No! No!”
I scared A-Baby to death. She didn’t cry loudly, though, just had little tears sliding down her cheeks while her chin quivered and she looked at me with uncertain remorse. That was worse than if she’d howled loud enough to be heard by the lower 48 states.
It got me feeling I’m an unfit mother.
Yes, my head knows accidents happen and active kids are more likely to have those accidents.And we certainly don’t have kids who sit in the middle of the floor and drool all day long.
But when you’ve got little ones in your care and something hurts them, my goodness, the self-talk gets vicious.
So, Lord, I’m going to ask for help. Would you please work in the life of the Facebook friend’s friend? Would You please help my friends who are struggling with BIG decisions have peace and the courage to make the right decisions?
And then, since I know You’re up to it, could you please help me overcome this sense of mothering inadequacy? Could you protect my little ones from harm?
And, maybe, just because You love me so much, could you please give me energy to make it through bedtime?
Because, oh, heavens, bedtime seems like an eternity from now.