The beauty of a sleeping baby is without words. The beauty of a sleeping toddler reminds us they are precious gifts. But the moments leading up to their restful sleep can be oh so very difficult to manage.
This Easter morning I was tasked with giving grace, showing mercy, remaining calm, and providing correction more times than I can count. I failed today.
The baby has been full of emotion she hasn’t yet learned to control. Crying. Laying in the floor. Waving her hands in the air. Crying some more. And picking a fight with her brother to top it off. Our toddler has yelled and stomped his feet over the simplest of things. Being 2 is hard. And I’m fully convinced choosing to obey isn’t on the agenda for the 4 year old today. Seems like most days lately.
I am human. I am flawed. I am absolutely positive I have failed at every aspect of my tasks this morning multiple times. For a moment I wondered if nap time could be 10 am. For me. Because that felt like a better option. For us all.
In the middle of the mess I decided I failed today. But I don’t have to fail all day.
I will choose to celebrate the day.
Easter Sunday is a day of celebration. The bunny, eggs, and candy is cool. But we celebrate for so much more. And no matter what is going on or how hard it is, I will celebrate this day.
The choice to celebrate made the day easier. Don’t worry they’re normal kids. They didn’t suddenly become angels. Their hard day continued for a time. But my tasks became achievable. I was able to show mercy, give grace, remain calm, and correct behavior in a way that was beneficial for us all.
Nap time came and I was thankful for the break. They were too. They slept hard. Their tired and my tired was a disaster waiting to happen.
That’s life. That’s parenting. That’s real. For us all.
Here is what I was reminded of that precious morning.
I am not a failure. I am flawed. I am human. Life is hard. Normal everyday stuff is hard. Even holidays. Kids are kids. They are more precious than life itself. But they are hard.
In the middle of their mess they need me to give grace, show mercy, love, and correct. Gently and firmly teach them how to let God turn their chaos into calm. But if I’m going to teach them that, I have to choose to do it first. In the moment. Maybe even a few moments. Because it’s hard.
Last night the baby was tired. More than tired. She cried. Cried so hard she could barely get herself together. She stood there looking at me. Crying. Yelling. And then yelled really loud. With big tears. I calmly softly told her it would be okay. That I would hold her when she was ready. She wanted to come be held but couldn’t quite get herself there. As she took in deep breaths trying so hard to be calm I held my hands out and waited. She laid her little head in my lap and cried quietly. I held her. She slept.
I’ve been that mess. I’m a little well maybe a lot older than 2 and have been tired. Very tired. Cried so hard I’ve lost my breath. Yelled. Yelled really loud to release tension. Needed held but couldn’t get myself there. My Heavenly Father has stood there. Waiting with arms open. Ready to comfort me. As soon as I was ready to be held, he held me. Graciously. With mercy. Lovingly.
Know today that in our messiest moments of life we have our Father gently lovingly waiting with open arms to hold us.
Be held.
Bobbie
