Love

Sitting unnoticed, I listen as a woman talks to another about her meltdown the night before. I smile, as she explains almost having dinner made, after a long day at work, kids ball practice, and yells for her husband, who says, can it wait a minute......That was her snapping point. She then said what I am sure most of us, try too hard, mommas have, I need to ask for help. They would help if I would ask, but I just don't fell like I should have to. I mean, doesn't he see the dirty house, the kids outside past dark, and that they need a bath and dinner is still not done?

I call them mommy meltdowns and I have one about every 4 to 6 months and no, momma, they don't see the dirty dishes, loads of unfolded clothes they brush out of the way to sit and watch TV or the dirty kids that still need a bath at 9 pm, on a school night. It's just not on their radar and if you ask, they would say the house is perfect and so are you.

Later that same day, I find myself driving to pick up pizza, promising myself I will restart, Weight Watchers, again, tomorrow for the 1000th time, and tears spring to my eyes. Not because a church friend is on his way to help install a door after 8 pm, that our son kicked in this morning, desperate for keys he locked in the house, again, so he could arrive for his final exam, already late. Not because work has been challenging, or we have an early morning planned, or because my garden still has plants that need to go in the ground and I need a longer hose to water the whole garden..... but just because.
Sitting in the car, I see a group of young people walking their dogs and an older man stopped on the side of the road, talking with them. They are laughing  and smiling and the older man is petting the young folks dogs. Life is still going on, still moving. The sun is still setting and the rising moon is going to reflect the sun, in the midnight sky and so must I.

No matter what the enemy throws my way, I am still a child of God, a sinner once lost but found, and my response to stress is my testimony. So I cry alone with Savior. I give Him my grief and sorrow, my hard day, my unpleasant news, my pain, my worry, my insecurities and I wait for peace.

I pull into my drive way, wipe away tears as I watch my son, outstretched, pulling old nails out of a broken doorway, and I take the pizza from the car. He hands me my new key and I make a joke about the number of keys he had made. Our eyes meet and I love him. I love all his flaws, all his failures, and I love the hard work he is putting into fixing his mistake.

I guess this is what Savior does. When I mess up....he meets my eyes and He loves me.

We love, because He first loved us. 

I John 4:19