This morning, we had some extra special moments. Alright, they were crappy moments. First, I woke up to a horrible smell. My husband, who had been up doing school, took the cat and tossed her out of the room because he claimed she had let one rip. Maybe ten minutes later, I discovered she had not just passed gas. She had laid a nice present on the bedspread. Awesome.
Well, we moved on fairly smoothly. A quick pick up (thankful it wasn’t diarrhea) and toss into the washer and we were good. I went on to have time with the Lord. I had a good time of receiving, with Him speaking to some of my fears (this could be its own blog post), and moved into the day.
I heard a groan from the bedroom as I am getting ready in the bathroom. Benaiah has had a blow out, and Andy is getting a bit overwhelmed. I enter the bedroom and the thing I see is the smear of poop on the white bedspread. ARGH! I just can’t even…
I don’t know about you, but sometimes anger hits so strong, I don’t even have words. When I finally found the words, I went on about how I JUST cleaned that bedspread, how hard it is to clean because it balls up and I have to untwist it, and how incredibly hard it is to get it on the duvet. I wanted desperately to be okay with it all and to move past it, but it was like my brain couldn’t. I am still venting, not too loudly but emphatically. I pass my daughter sitting in front of the Christmas tree with her stuffed animals and staring at me with slight fear. Ugh. I say “Hi” in a completely different tone. She doesn’t buy it. I head to the laundry room, curl up, and cry.
I hate that what I do and say could be messing my kids up. I hate it. And I take that pressure on my self everyday. Which makes me an even more tightly-wound and easily-angered person. It is a bad cycle.
Andy comes and kneels down. He tells me, it’s ok. It’s okay to be upset about crap on the bed, twice in one day. It’s okay. And that permission helped me. That and the crying. It helped release all the pressures. He assured me that Leli still loves me and doesn’t see me as a horrible person. I was tempted to doubt everything that he said, but I couldn’t afford to. I needed to believe it. The same way that I need to believe what God says when He says I don’t have to be afraid. He holds my soul. And maybe you need to believe that today too.
If you needed this today, here is a link to a podcast that was super timely for today: