Telling the Truth

Today was a rough one. Lately I find myself overwhelmed; struggling to juggle all that entails this role that I lead. I'm left feeling defeated as a mother...as a wife...as a child of God. Getting through the day with emotions in tact is sometimes downright challenging. And it's to be expected, with all that my plate holds. As I walk past the mountain of laundry that begs to be folded; a dining room floor that needs a layer or two peeled back; two crying toddlers that want Mama's attention (and just one more book to be read to); and three school-age children that require me to sit and explain decimal placement, and where on earth all the sharpened pencils went....I pause and internally chant, "it's just a season." And it is, really. Just a season. But during this season of the busy and the chaotic I'm finding myself falling short. That tiny little sin of impatience creeps its way back in. I see myself short, cranky, on edge. Impatient with my answers and inquiries; grace is lacking. And I know it's not pretty; and I know it doesn't leave me feeling good. At all. Enter Mama's guilt. Which brings about more frustration. And insecurity. Instability. Combine that with imperfect children, and blend with increasing frustration. It makes for a bad recipe.
After a whirlwind of a day of homeschooling, then lunch, (insert argument with teenage daughter here), an hour drive to the dentist, a mini-grocery shopping trip with five children in tow (including 2 cranky toddlers), an hour drive back home, dinner on the fly, and then putting all the children to bed...my little Lexi follows me back downstairs with giant tears formed perfectly in the corners of her big, brown eyes. She insists on talking to me "in private". And once we're completely alone her little voice quivers. "Mom...a long time ago I took a piece of candy from my Halloween bag and ate it without asking." (I had to ask her to repeat herself twice, her voice was so mouse-like.) My heart, it melted. Into a puddle of mush, in fact. "I knew it was wrong and right after it, it didn't taste good, and I didn't feel good." Her little heart was so broken with humility. We talked about how doing the right thing always feels good; doing the wrong thing may look, sound or taste good...but leaves you feeling not-so-good. And in the few minutes I had of conversing with my nine year old, I was as equally convicted of my own sins...the attitudes of my heart. The cemented walls of frustration, bitterness and wrongful justification over the past several days crumbled. And left me feeling like a fool.
This parenting thing. It can be so much work. It is so time consuming, so heart-wrenching, so exhausting and often unrewarding. But is so convicting. And in the end, I have very little doubt that they will have taught me more about myself and about life than I could have ever shown them.
 Little Lexi-Loo...don't ever stop being afraid to admit you're wrong. When I grow up I want to be half the woman that you're becoming.