It's been one of those weeks. A rushed mornings-late bedtimes-yell in anger-worship at the altar of Keurig- seriously consider selling my kids to the gypsies- kind of week. My son has had more tantrums than I can (or care to) count. I have, in turn, lost my cool more times than I can count. The hook-on chair at the kitchen table still reeks of baby puke after my daughter coughed so hard the other night that she threw up her dinner, because I haven't bothered to take it apart and throw the fabric in the washing machine. My husband and I have been like two ships passing in the night. We looked forward to a night out alone at an awesome concert in the city that he won tickets to, but couldn't find a sitter since my mother-in-law is out of town and it was a weeknight.
Yesterday morning, Gregg left before the sun came up to present a workshop at a church over an hour away. Colton woke up when he heard the shower start and wouldn't go back to sleep. That was NOT how I wanted to start my weekend. It was cold and raining out, and I probably should have just declared it a pajamas-and-movie day but I got the three of us out the door to go to an indoor event that the town's rec center was putting on. On the way home, I committed the unpardonable sin of stopping at McDonald's for lunch when only the night before I congratulated myself on having made a flavorful, inventive dinner for my family from scratch using only organic ingredients. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Everywhere I looked, I saw imperfection, mess and disappointment. I heard words and phrases in my head like "inadequate", "out of control" and "hopeless". I asked God why I couldn't have just one week where the kids weren't sick, my oldest wasn't constantly challenging every word I said and things seemed to work out in my favor. Then I heard the answer. Because this world is not my home. Because this life isn't meant to satisfy. It is broken, but thankfully this is not all there is. Jesus came so that our peace, our satisfaction would be found alone in Him. He still comes, every day and every time I need Him to show up in my ordinary life as a mom. I've found this week that even my disappointments and struggles can point me to Him, because they serve as reminders of how much I need a Savior. He experienced weariness, too. The pressing in of people with great needs. The sorrow over how broken this world is. And He overcame the cross so that we could have hope of something more.
I don't really observe Lent, not in the traditional sense anyway. I don't commit to give up anything, and I don't stick to only eating fish or pizza on Fridays. But this year, as I count down these 40 days to Easter, I will be meditating on the meaning and the power of the cross. I love the song "There Will Be A Day" by Jeremy Camp, especially the part about the beauty that is in store outweighing the hurt of life's sting. One day we will see Jesus face to face. That gives me incredible hope.