Today's guest post is from my friend Lindsey. Lindsey and I meta few years ago through our church. She is a great woman who is oh so talented with the camera and a great momma to her 3 babies!
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Sometimes I wish I had a rewind button where I could go back and erase all of the not so great moments and overwrite them with a more graceful story. It has been one of those weeks.
It started with me being out of town for four days for work and went downhill from there. I lost my patience. I didn't choose kind words. I got frustrated with my schedule and let the chaos of it all get to me. I failed to remember that people close to us will do hurtful things and our response should still always be love. I didn't seek joy. I was a mess. And not even a hot mess.
I forgot to mention that we ALL FIVE had the stomach bug the week before.
I don't know how all mothers feel, but I admire those who seem to flawlessly dance through motherhood without any missteps. I often feel like I can't even hear the music much less keep the rhythm, stepping on toes as I go.
The good news is there is a Savior who will sweep me off my feet and help me find my place when I forget how to dance. And he will do it as many times as I ask.
The boys were playing outside with the water hose the other day and found a corner in the yard that is mostly dirt and before long it turned to a muddy mess. By the time I realized exactly how much of a mess it was they were already rolling around in it like pigs. For a moment I thought about telling them to stop and clean up before it got worse, but then I decided that it was just mud and the smiles on their faces were worth much more than the yard and the scrubbing I would have to do later. So instead, I got my camera and took pictures of the mud slinging.
There is a lesson to be learned in seeing the world through our children's eyes. I read something recently that struck me to the core…”You mother as well as you know your Father.” On my worst days, have I pressed into Jesus? When I lose my patience, have I reminded myself of the countless times I have failed and been forgiven? Am I sacrificing myself daily to show my kids the kind of love that can only come from Jesus? Where does my joy come from and how will my children remember me? Do I choose grace over anger and frustration?
I am a work in progress. But I am thankful for a Father who continually pursues me and gently whispers, “it's just mud” to a frazzled and worn out mom who often forgets to fight for joy amidst the chaos.
Tomorrow is another day with new mercies. I don't get a do over, but I will try harder. I'll tell my husband I'm proud of him and try not to get so irritated at the fact that we are not wired the same. I will remind myself to be slow to anger and quick to love. I will look into six beautiful little eyes – four brown, two blue – and tell them how much I love them. Lord, please let those be the words my children remember.
And I'll drink coffee. Lots of coffee. I'm certain it comes straight from heaven.
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Lindsey Jost is married to Garrett Jost and they have three kids, two boys and one girl ages five and under. She works from home doing marketing and photography. You can see more of her work here.
