My body fills with red hot anger; my heart, stomach and lungs feel as though they are full of hot coals, fresh off the fire. My whole body shakes, my momentary existence wrapped up in my selfish desire for peace and comfort. Living, moment by moment joy forgotten in the struggles of the day.
I look down at the two little light brown eyes who are no longer shocked by the rage inside my heart. And in a way, this too makes me angry. I am powerless and no longer have effect on her. All I want is for this daughter of mine to sleep, as I know her body needs. But she resists. And she, in kind, responds with her own shouts of anger. The person I am in this moment is not who I want to be. I am shocked by how easily I've gotten to this point and by how little she had to do to bring me to the edge. My rage scares me and even in this moment, I am aware that the only fruit of my anger will be fear and distance between her heart and mine. But I desperately need reprieve so I allow my body and soul to be taken by the fire.
Each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then desire, when it has conceived, gives birth to sin and sin, when it is fully grown, brings forth death. {James 1:15}
Death. Yes, spiritual death- I feel it deep in my soul and I see it in her eyes. Her soul's doors shutting me out, protecting herself from the words that spew from my nearly foaming mouth.
And then something miraculous and beautiful happens. Breath of Heaven fills my soul and Living Water quenches me. I crawl into my daughters bed and collect her sobbing body in my arms. I pull her tear stained face against my chest. And for the very first time, I know that she can actually physically feel my love. She relaxes and her sobbing subsides. I lay her on her pillow and stroke her cheek with my hand. She closes her eyes, raises two chubby hands to my cheeks and pulls me in for the sweetest, most life giving kisses a child is capable of giving her mother.
My journey in mothering is wrought with ugly moments. Moments where I've chosen to continue in my rage; where I've missed the blessings of unexpected kisses and laughter.
But then there are these moments, precious moments, bathed in God's Grace, ushered in by the Holy Spirit. And there is no greater blessing in motherhood than the unexpected joy in the mess of the everyday
And that is chara- joy in the awareness of God's Grace and favor. Joy in the work of the Holy Spirit when we are at our weakest. Joy in needing Him. Joy in our Rescue by a Loving God.
