being real

The heavens heard our cries and the sun came out today.  Unfortunately, I am still finding myself reflecting the attitude of storm clouds.

We are in a funk over here.  I am in a funk over here.  Not even these have been able to cheer me up.

It's easy to read someone's blog and think that their life is perfect.  They never have a messy house, or go a day without showering.  Every evening they put a perfectly nutritious and delicious meal on the table at exactly five, and they always dress for dinner.

In the same way, it is easy to have conversations with fellow believers in which we just give "blog posts" of the goings on in our lives.  I was thinking about this last night after our small group met.  Our church doesn't have a fancy name for it; they're just called small groups.  There I go being snarky.

Anyways, we were talking about the importance of discipline in daily spending time in prayer and reading the bible.  And things got real.  I absolutely love each of the people in our small group, and I absolutely love the genuine fellowship that we have.  They aren't going to let me give a "blog post" answer about how much time I spend reading and praying.  There isn't time to edit my responses, or to read and re-read what I'm saying.  I simply have to be honest with them and say that I don't spend the time I should in the scriptures and communing with the Lord but I wish I did, and trust that they as participants in the christian life understand.

So after going to sleep last night feeling so encouraged, and hopeful about the upcoming year...why did I wake up today feeling so discouraged and hopeless to make any changes in my life. 

Sweet P barely slept last night.  Or maybe she did, and I didn't.  For some reason, it was as if we were back at square one.  I got up at every noise that she made.  And she was a restless sleeper, which is a far cry from the routine we have settled into.

Today, she has been fussy and insatiable.  She hasn't napped like she normally does, and none of our usual methods of consoling her have seemed to do the trick.

And the dog.  For heaven's sake, that dog.  I truly believe that he knows when it would be the most inconvenient for him to start acting up, and he runs over to Piper's car seat, grabs her hat or blanket, then goes to hide under the table so he can chew on it.  You know the more I think about it, the more I wish that you could see the theatrics that ensue.  They usually involve me trying to use the dining room chairs to barricade him on both sides, before crawling under the table myself.  What's funnier than that would have been the sight of me crawling after him at nine months pregnant.

But Piper and Ike aren't the problem.  I am the problem.  My sorry attitude is the problem.  My allowing myself to be quick to anger in stressful situations is the problem.

Lord, why I am so prone to anger?  Why do I care so much about having a spotless house, if it isn't filled with love you You and love for others?

I got very little done today in the way of checking things off of a to-do list.  But that's not important right now.  What's important is that the Lord gently reminded me of His love for me in creation.  He convicted me of my wandering heart.  He continues to sanctify me, because Ike will always want to steal things and hide under the table.  And I am praying that He will show me how to love like He does, starting with my husband and my daughter...and by golly that dog.

sag