Ever get that feeling of panic that rises up your throat like acid? I just did as I ascended the stairs to escape my kids. I didn't quite make it in time, because I yelled "WHAT!!" when Providence whined/asked a "Mom?" for the sixth time looking for a pair of clean jeans.
I think something is wrong with me. I don't have unending patience. And when I think I do, I crack faster. Susannah Wesley used to throw her apron over her head in her moments of stress to pray. I need something like that...so I rush to my room and lock the door.
I may not have unending patience but I have Jesus. It seems unfathomably hard sometimes to sweep up crumbs, deal with gross kids, and even harder to explain to them how not to be gross. Micaiah loves to do things on her own, but today I had to explain to her that only Mommy or Daddy should try to use the plunger to unclog the toilet. Seriously. At least with my dramatic firstborn, I get informed that the water is rising in the moment.
So I run. Becomes sometimes, many times, even a couple times an hour...I can't deal. I lock the door and turn some great worship music on and shut myself into my heart with the other Person that lives in me. He soothes my soul, calms my nervous tics, and gives me a fresh jolt of Him.
Back to the fray...
No comments:
Post a Comment