“Once again, I faced satan this morning and I battled him all the day long. But, in my weakness God sent reinforcement and by sun down, I’ll sing victory’s song.”
Does anyone else live these lyrics as often as I?
This morning…well, throughout the night, my very present trouble was a toddler. My charming, adorable toddler developed into Hurricane Tantrum and when I thought it had passed, I soon realized it was just the eye of the storm. Sleep was almost non-existent and we needed to rise for an early morning doctor’s appointment out of town.
In many ways I have been a single-mom the past eleven months with a husband working away from home. It has challenged me, revealing both new heights and lows in my character. My kids are at such fun ages. I am greatly enjoying this stage and love my children deeply. Then moments of exhaustion knock me down, armor laying about me. The enemy attacks with such force that I find myself wanting to raise the white flag of surrender.
Gone are the thoughts of blessings, of gratitude. Gone are the adorations of dimples, laughter, kisses and hugs. Gone are the reminders of charity’s attributes. They are swept away in a flood carrying the pestilences of doubt, anger, and bitterness. Murmurings and disputing pour out of my heart to God. I am tired. I am overwhelmed. I want to quit. I tell God that I am handing the kids over to dad for the weekend and leaving town, going to the beach. A couple days with quiet, no demands, and full night of sleep will refresh me. I will find God at the beach, draw closer to Him again because in this moment I feel so alone and weary; broken and wounded.
“Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt.
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart.”
God sent reinforcement. With stinging, tired eyes and heart, I drive 40 minutes to our doctor’s appointment. I turn on a new station I found on Sirius, Family Talk. I do not know who was preaching, but the message was from God to me; preaching on the battles of parenting. Two hours earlier, I was telling Him where we would meet. But, He met me where I was, in my dissonance. Salt air, quiet and sleep cannot refresh one’s spirit like the Word of God and the Comforter. I am reminded that though I am a mom, I am His child. Just as I chastised Jacob for his rebellion, God chastised me. Just as I forgave and comforted Jacob afterwards with hugs, kisses and “love you’s,” God poured out His love and mercies upon me.
On the drive home, I passed a church. The sign read, “An ounce of mothering is worth a ton of preaching.” The message earlier reminded me that there is no option to quit as a mom. This sign reminded me why. My children can hear a lifetime of sermons, but the experience of a relationship with Christ starts in the home, through the gift of motherhood. When satan attacks my mind and heart, God sends reinforcements. He reminds me of His high calling. I throw that white flag in the ditch of repentance and I press toward the mark.