Yesterday I wrote a post about how having a bad day doesn’t mean you’re a bad mom.
Then my day went like this:
The boys got in a fist fight over the Bible. (The Bible!! A fist fight!!!)
The Lady spilled half a box of Cheerios all over the kitchen.
While popping popcorn on the stove for a snack, I somehow managed to melt a bread bag and the lid to the canola oil onto the pot.
One boy stomped repeatedly on his sister in anger, apparently because she had hit him first.
Another boy became so overwhelmed with the thought schoolwork that he completely freaked out, screaming for several hours.
I burnt the hamburger buns when I was cooking dinner. I stood at the stove and stared at the blackened bread.
There it was. My burnt toast.
I had to laugh a little.
Every once in a while it takes a good look in the mirror to remember that we are the foolish things God has made wise. Our best efforts gain us plastic trophies, the fleeting praise of people, and triflings that mean nothing, really.
We want a medal for showing up and participating. God gives us new life for kneeling down and worshipping Him.
Our devotion to Him is what makes us great.
How can we ever find value or meaning for ourselves apart from Him?
The higher we exalt Him, the higher He is able to lift us out our smallness, our insecurity, and our vain attempts at success.
After dinner, Mr. Fantastic swept crumbs in the kitchen. As he pressed the broom under the cabinet, a slew of Cheerios came flying out.
“Jackpot!!” he cried out.
Jackpot, indeed. We are a jackpot of mistakes, accidents, and errors. We drop things, break things, and blow it and then someone comes along to help clean it all up.
I relayed the ugly details of my day to him. He was in it with me, loving me, lifting me up.
That’s how we know love best. Sweeping up one another’s messes gives us all a grand perspective and purpose, and it draws us together, making us a family.
In the end, despite the fights and the spills, the screams and the tears, it was a good day, full of grace for us all. Jackpot!
