Motherhood is messy, Lord. My tears, they want to flow when I find the bathroom floor flooded with water, the doings of a curious toddler boy. I am happy when I enter that room, but oh how quickly a smile can fade. I don't cry, though. I just get to work and try to keep my composure. Water spraying from a joint in the toilet's hardware. I am not sure if I should get the man of the house.
Can I handle this mess on my own?
Towels. Alot of towels.
And late nights. Early mornings. Broken toes and broken hearts. Tears.
And towels for tears. A lot of towels. The disaster cannot be cleaned up with a towel.
So many motherhood disasters cannot be cleaned up with a towel.
I leave to inspect the level below. The basement carpeted underneath the chaos above is not left unaffected. It is soaked. A mess. A terrible horrible awful mess. The electrical in the ceiling has shorted out. Hot water is pouring from the ceiling as hot tears well in my eyes. I sink down and give in to the tears this time. What do I do now?
I cannot handle this mess on my own.
So many motherhood disasters cannot be cleaned up with a towel.
I leave to inspect the level below. The basement carpeted underneath the chaos above is not left unaffected. It is soaked. A mess. A terrible horrible awful mess. The electrical in the ceiling has shorted out. Hot water is pouring from the ceiling as hot tears well in my eyes. I sink down and give in to the tears this time. What do I do now?
I cannot handle this mess on my own.
It is moments like this, Lord, that I can't do this motherhood thing. It can leave a mess and leave me feeling like I am a mess. I am tempted. As the tears flow, I am tempted to start to feel sorry for myself, to feel frustrated and to say I just can't do this, I don't want to do this...but I stop myself.
What if I praised You in this moment? In this crazy, awful, sopping wet moment, what if I pictured the beautiful, chubby little hand that twisted that knob on the toilet out of sheer curiousity?
And thanked you for that?
What if, as I soaked towels wet with carpet stained water, I allowed my mind to travel thousands of miles where a mother's son will sleep on a muddy dirt floor. This is sobering. My wet carpet still has the safe covering of a roof over it.
It is raining. I can hear the rain and I picture it easily when I close my eyes, as I hear it fall. My mischievous toddler son will sleep snuggled warm under his favorite blanket as the rains fall. He has the peace that someone is taking care of the messes of life.
I can be thankful for that as I clean this mess.
What if I just thank you for the messy of motherhood? What if I just right then say,
And this is how you want it. These moments come to bring me outside of me and to reach out to you, the man of the house. I know I cannot clean any of it up on my own.
I smile. The mess is still there but I can smile now because I know who You are. The great I Am. The Man of this home. It is all good and I am thankful for the opportunity to look outside of me and to be reminded of this truth.
What if I praised You in this moment? In this crazy, awful, sopping wet moment, what if I pictured the beautiful, chubby little hand that twisted that knob on the toilet out of sheer curiousity?
And thanked you for that?
What if, as I soaked towels wet with carpet stained water, I allowed my mind to travel thousands of miles where a mother's son will sleep on a muddy dirt floor. This is sobering. My wet carpet still has the safe covering of a roof over it.
It is raining. I can hear the rain and I picture it easily when I close my eyes, as I hear it fall. My mischievous toddler son will sleep snuggled warm under his favorite blanket as the rains fall. He has the peace that someone is taking care of the messes of life.
I can be thankful for that as I clean this mess.
What if I just thank you for the messy of motherhood? What if I just right then say,
Lord, when I saw this mess I am in, I thought to wonder if I should call on the man of the house. Can I handle this mess on my own? Of course I can't. Of course I cannot handle this mess. I cannot handle any of it on my own.
And this is how you want it. These moments come to bring me outside of me and to reach out to you, the man of the house. I know I cannot clean any of it up on my own.
I smile. The mess is still there but I can smile now because I know who You are. The great I Am. The Man of this home. It is all good and I am thankful for the opportunity to look outside of me and to be reminded of this truth.
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