John had three breatholding spells before noon, and after that third one I finally just put him down for a nap at 11:30 am, which is not good. I like to wait as long as possible or else we are in for a long afternoon while we wait for daddy to get home. But, the poor thing had no hope of being in a good mood unless I let him sleep for a while.
And really, the only other hard part of the day was that Scott got home from work really late. And I put dinner off as long as I could, until 6 pm rolled around and he hadn't left work yet, and I sat us all down for dinner without him. And I know that so many people eat dinner without their husband, but I don't like to. Scott is a huge "partner" around here in the evenings when I am out of every bit of kindness I can muster up towards these kiddos. So, anyway, during dinner, when I walked into the kitchen to get Ada some more black beans, I heard Ada say, "no sir, buddy," to John, and I glanced up just in time to see him climb out of his highchair, over the tray, and proceed to hit his head on the table, which sent him into another breathholding spell. And I was so tired at that point. Who isn't at 7 pm? And I had cleaned up the toy clutter so many times, and I was so ready for Scott to be home. So, when Ada decided to cut paper with no purpose, out of boredom, and then complain and whine when I asked her to pick it up, I lost it. It was just pure sin. No other way to say it. I yelled, she cried, and it was ugly.
It was this cycle all evening--feel frustration bubbling up, go over the verse in Psalms that reminds me that this very day was ordained by God. He is the one who decided that John would take an early nap on the same day that Scott would work extra late. And as I kept repeating this cycle, I realized that the verse wasn't helping because then I was just frustrated with God. I was frustrated with this house and my emotions that I wish were so much more simple and easy to deal with, and I wasn't believing that I am fearfully and wonderfully made or cut out for this job of being Ada and John's mother. I feel like a failure all of the time. I went over all of this with God over and over in the midst of baths and cleaning the kitchen and reminding Ada to put toys away.
I don't even know what my point is, really. When Scott finally did get home, I left to put gasoline in the car and get a fountain diet coke, and, of course, in the quiet of the car, I was finally able to process a bit. I thought about how frustrated I feel over my situation. As long as we are in this house, there are things that are put on hold. And I am going to feel cramped at times. And I, of course, went over the obvious blessings--I have food and comfortable shelter and a car and a husband and children and the list goes on and on and on. But, I still felt frustrated. I almost felt frustrated by the fact that I really didn't have anything to be angry about. And then I thought about last year, and how Scott and I prayed over and over and over again for a new job for him and for us to be able to get out of debt. We were persistent with that prayer, and even told God that we would continue to pray these things until he gave them to us or until he changed our hearts. And, now, from this perspective, I can almost picture God saying to us back then, you don't understand what you are asking. You don't understand that things are going to have to change drastically for me to give you what you want. You don't understand that things are going to have get a lot worse before they get better.
And, if a lot worse, is living in complete comfort, obviously I don't understand suffering. But in my humanity, in my, "I am nothing but dust," state of mind, it feels uncomfortable to live here in this moment, right now, on this night. And we are even hearing God say to stay put for another year and a half. Which means other things will be put on hold as well. We are hitting the pause button as we try to get our finances in order. And we feel the momentum building. God is answering our prayers from last year--on this very day, this hard day, he is answering our prayers--and even tonight, it was as if God said, "do you trust me? or do you really want to do things your way? Really? How well has that worked for you so far?" And I surrendered the frustration to the reality that I want to do it God's way, obviously. And I am in the midst of seeing him answer our prayers!!!! And in the midst of him answering the very prayer that I prayed for a year, I feel frustrated with Him.
Oh the state of my heart. And my desperate need for his grace. I yell at my children, and I am ungrateful when God does the very thing that I have asked him to do. And I am sure that from Scott's perspective I am such a joy to come home to ;) But, God, in his grace and mercy, has given me a husband that loves me unconditionally, even on these worst of days. And Ada, who forgives and forgives and forgives again. And little John, despite everything, he is such a joy to me. He really is. God has given me a treasure in this family of mine, in these very people who drive me crazy all of the time ;) He has given me so much. And I just needed to process in writing...get it all down...maybe so that one day when Ada calls in tears, I will say, read this, my child, read this. You are not the first to feel inadequate as a mother, and you probably won't be the last. But God is gracious, and He will equip you, no matter how it feels. Praise the Lord for that.
edit: as I reread this, I am afraid that it comes across that I am ungrateful for my family, but I am really trying to say that after a really hard day (just hard b/c of the normal daily stuff), I am so grateful for my family because they allow me to have really bad days. Just to clear that up ;)