A long time ago I made a list of how God sees me. I read and re-read the list over and over for years until I memorized and internalized certain truths about my identity. When a bad day hits, I go back to the verses and remind myself of whom I am in Christ.
It gets me through THOSE kinds of mommy days.
Like yesterday, when I pulled out all the fixings for dinner and discovered I had purchased hot dog buns for Sloppy Joes instead of hamburger buns. My kids looked at me like I had been smoking crack and even though I tried to explain it was an accident, they gave me the LOOK like I was losing my marbles.
“Mom, hot-dogs and hamburgers are very different,” my daughter Faith explained in her snotty Jr. High voice.
Even little Kolby gave me a hard time and refused to eat her “sloppy dog” (except she called it a “soppy dog” because she struggles with her “L’s”).
Then there are the days like Monday when I set up a princess tea-party for my girls with home-made chocolate chip cookies and sweets and crisp white linen cloths with an elegant tray. Kolby and Faith donned their fanciest gowns as I carried the lovely china bursting with yummies outside to our front porch.
The clouds were supposed to part and the harps were supposed to sing…right?
But just as I placed the feast down on the table, we were accosted by the roar of a Carpet Cleaning Van parked in our neighbor’s driveway and a hot wind blowing an inferno in our face.
COME ON! Princesses aren’t supposed to sweat profusely in mid-October or have to shout over rumbles. I wanted serenity and girl-time, but instead I got sweaty pits and a migraine.
These are the days I try to remember my God affirmations. I have to repeat over and over, “I am a good mom and a loved child of God, even when I screw up Sloppy Joes and my princess party fails,” instead of berating myself for the mishaps.
I want to think about things that are good and true and noble instead of focusing on the bad.
But geez…it’s so dang easy to complain.
Lately, God has been nudging me to stop focusing on the little irritants and keep my eyes focused solely on him. I wish I could say it was effortless, but the truth is, it’s a hard road for me to navigate.
I am a woman after all. We like to complain. It bonds us.
Most days I feel like Peter walking on the water, eyes squared on the BIG man and then suddenly I drop off into oblivion when a gripe seeps out.
Walk, drop, swim…walk, drop, swim…
Over and over I play this game.
Sometimes it feel s like I doggie-paddle more in the deep than I walk on top of the water, but I am determined to keep paddling towards the only one who can lift my soppy dog head out of the water again.
Do you ever struggle with complaining? How do you keep your thoughts positive on a bad day?
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