This isn’t a revelation; I realize that. Most women I know have a “to-do” list that never ends. When one item is crossed off the top, three more replace it on the bottom. And if you do find that you’ve accomplished it, it’s time to start all over again. Don’t misunderstand, there is joy in many of the items. Even with the mundane, there are times when I’m overcome with the recognition that this is for my beautiful family and my beautiful life. I am blessed with smudged peanut butter window panes, mateless socks and missing shoes, too much food to choose from on grocery store shelves and money to buy it with. Again, it’s not a revelation, but I need to hear it. I need to remind myself.
Today, I wasn’t a good mother. I let Logan play with the x-box for too long, in favor of quiet over what is best for him. I snapped at him without getting the whole story and grew annoyed when he wanted me to “come and see” what he made. As far as I could tell, he’s simply moved a mess from one side of the room to another. I feigned enthusiasm for the world he created, but in my heart and in my mind, I wasn’t a good mother. What makes all of this even worse is the story of the 9-year-old girl that was recently murdered and thrown in a dumpster. How can I have even a moment of annoyance with my baby when these parents would die for what I’ve been gifted with? Maybe this is why I don’t like to sit in silence for too long. She has been on my heart and mind so much since I saw the news story, and the silence brings it front and center. But that’s okay. It’s where it should be, as it’s more important than whether or not it might snow twelve days from now, or a great sugar cookie recipe, the lyrics to a song I’ve heard a thousand times, or yet another made for TV Christmas movie starring Tori Spelling.
I could write thousands of words about this little girl and her family, but nothing can make sense of it. I praise God for my faith though. I remember years ago when I was a youth group leader and we lost someone so dear to us. Through our tears and our prayers, I said to one of the students, “I just don’t understand.” She replied with, “And I’m thankful that we don’t have to.” I know there are people reading this that might scoff at this idea or come up with a million reasons why they think that sentiment is idiotic and juvenile, but that’s okay. It doesn’t change anything for me. It doesn’t change the peace that I have in my heart. It doesn’t change the fact that God is good, even though there is so much we don’t understand. (Maybe even because of that.)
The world won’t ever stop being a cruel place, but we have hope. I get so angry at those that spout hate in the name of Jesus. Jesus was love personified. He set the standard for how to treat others. Like I said, there is so much that I don’t understand, but I thank God that I don’t have to. He is big, and I am small. He is the father, and I am the child. He loves me even when I’m a “bad mother.” Actually, he doesn’t even see that. He sees my heart from beginning to end and not from moment to moment. With Him, I can forgive those who have hurt me and ask for His blessings upon them. In Him, I can recognize those times when I take my beautiful family for granted. The spirit within me whispers this, not to criticize, but to wake me up to all that I’m missing—all the robot dog cars and the many fleeting moments that I’ll eventually want back.