Need a lift?

I've been working out. My age was starting to reveal itself in my weak and tired body, so I knew it was time to get over my lack of motivation and start building some muscle once again. It's hard work and I've been sore... but the muscle is starting to say... hello, here I am! I have little bulges on my arm when I tighten them up and I admit I am a little bit proud of that. Yay, hard work is rewarding. But the other night the Lord gave me a little reminder... a little "get off the throne" reminder. I often live my life the same way... proud of those little bulges of accomplishment. Feeling strong because of my own hard work. But a few mornings ago when I awoke, I found that I could not move my arm... At all! Despite all of the hard work and muscle strengthening...it literally hung there, lifeless, beside me. During the night I had somehow slept in a way that cut off the blood circulation to my arm, causing it to "fall asleep" on me. And as I used my other arm to lift it and reposition it to start the blood flowing again...the Lord whispered to me... "It's the blood that gives life."  No matter how hard we try to build ourselves up and create a "strong" life,... without the blood of Christ all our efforts are futile... All our strength-training and hard work, worthless. We are like that arm, hanging lifeless beside my body... Desperately in need of His strength, and desperately in need of another arm to reach out and help lift us and reposition us.

May the blood of Christ be our daily strength!!

Flourescent Green, Rubber Bands, and Grace

My children stretch me.

Like the recent broken bowl after I said "Hold it very carefully with two hands." Only to hear the shatter two seconds later. Or the instructions to "go brush your teeth and get in your pj's." Only to find them distracted by toys with teeth still not brushed 5 minutes later. Or the "Mom there's something blue on the bathroom carpet." (Yes, white carpet in the bathroom. One of the current pet peeves of my life.) only to discover that someone left the cap off the "stain your teeth dark blue so you know where to brush" mouthwash and spilled it all over the floor. Or my permission to play a computer game as long as they only used the mouse and didn't press buttons, only to find them typing away on the keyboard in a "register for this membership" pop-up box. Ugh!

Every now and then I snap like a rubber band and it ain't pretty.

"What did I just tell you!?"  "Why aren't you doing what I asked you to do!?" "Who forgot to clean up after themselves!?" "Why are you not minding me!?" All said with a scowl and and an angry, raised voice.

Uummm... do you think it could be because they're kids perhaps? (Mom, I'm so sorry for the beans I spilled all over your brand new carpet as a kid! And I totally understand why you made me finish eating them, carpet fuzz and all! Hahaha! How I must have stretched you!)

Yesterday I was reminded of the calling we have as mothers... to show our children the grace of God. It happened when a teary-eyed five year old walked into the room and said  "Mommy,... I'm sorry.... I made a mistake." 

His mistake was scratching a flourescent green scuff mark across my nice dining room table with his Nerf gun. Flourescent green?! Could it be more obvious? I admit... I wanted to scream!... and maybe even cry. But I kept hearing... "I made a mistake." echo in my mind.

How many times have I gone to my heavenly Father with those very words? "I'm sorry. I made a mistake." And how many times has He looked down on my flourescent green mistake... and covered it with His grace.

Conviction, grace, and a teachable moment. It's good to be stretched!
"I won't do it again."  Hmmm. I think that's a lesson for another day.