I was down on my knees in the flooded bathroom. I felt like I was drowning in discontentment. I wanted my son to be different. I felt angry that he was making things so difficult for me.
In that same bathroom, the day before, I couldn't take the toothpaste eating and spitting in my face anymore. I yelled and screamed. I showed my son how ugly the anger was that boiled in my heart. I felt the war against flesh and spirit. I let anger win as it shot out of my mouth. I failed my son and left him in tears.
I met each of my children face to face. I told them how much I need Jesus. My six-year-old held my face to his chest as I cried quiet tears. He spoke to my broken heart, "It's okay mom, we all get upset." I reminded him of how I always tell them to be patient with each other and use kind words. I told him of how I need to be reminded of those things too.
The day after my anger explosion, I walked into the bathroom to find water being poured out onto the floor. One cup at a time. I picked Elias up out of the bath, wrapped him in a towel, and sent him out the door to his dad.
I fell to my knees and cried, frustrated at how unrealistic it is to be everywhere at once. The demands and pull of their needs exhaust me. I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. I wanted everyone in the house to know how hard my job is. But instead, I cried. And I did something that doesn't come easy to me—I asked for help. I prayed on that wet floor and felt the war inside my heart. I asked God to help me with the things that feel impossible.
As I soaked up the bathroom floor with towels, I wept and felt weak before the God who created me. The one who knows me better than anyone. The only one who knows how to help me. I thought about how he is using some of the ugliest moments to make something beautiful out of our family. He doesn't leave us in our failure, but carries us, because the battle has already been won! How amazing that I can lay my head on my son's chest and ask for forgiveness. He can see what it looks like for his mother to be broken of herself, in desperate need for Christ. He can see that his mother is not strong, but Christ is.
Today I want to find joy, even when I feel the painful discomfort of my circumstances. I might struggle and fall to the floor in tears. There will be days when I leave my son in tears. But with Christ there is healing and grace. There is beauty when it seems impossible.