What's a Mom to do?!

I learned a difficult, but valuable lesson the last few weeks.  Honestly, it's a lesson I've learned before, but for some reason it just didn't stick the first couple hundred times :)  I'm really hoping that if I write it down, that I will remember it so I don't have to learn it again!!  Let me start by saying I love my children, and I love being home with them, most of the time.  But lets just be honest, there are times when I don't love it, don't like it, and want to be anywhere but home.  Come on, I know I'm not the only stay at home mom who has had those days.  And you now what, it's OK to say that!  Lets just be honest with each other, being at home with kids all day everyday is HARD!!  While it is the most rewarding job, and it brings a heart more joy than I could comprehend, the day to day tasks of raising children, primarily disciplining children, can at times feel like an uphill battle.  Last week, I found myself in a pit.  I felt like the harder I tried to dig my way out, the further I fell down.  I came to a place of complete and total brokenness as a mom ( which is where my previous post "Blood Stained Grace" came from).  My 4 year old precious daughter, Hannah, has reached a place in her life where she feels the need to push every single boundary her loving parents have set for her.  She is what some may call, strong-willed!  I look at her sometimes and wonder "where did you come from?"  Any of you who really know me, especially my mom, dad, and sisters, are probably laughing because it is clear that she directly inherited that trait from her mother!  Anyway, it felt like everything with her was a battle, and I mean everything.  She was sweet and polite, until I asked her to do something.  Then oh my goodness, look out!  Here came the attitude!  I mean she had that look in her eyes, hands on the hips, and a sassy "No, I don't want to."  And me, being the strong-willed mother that I am,  looked right back at her with the "what did you just say to me" look, and the battle was on.  There where days when I spent more time disciplining Hannah, than anything else!  By the end of the day, I was a mess!  I was moody, angry, and just exhausted.  I felt like no matter what I did, nothing was working!!  I was ready to throw in the towel and give up.  But I just couldn't.  I love Hannah far too much to allow her to live her life with this defiance towards her parents.  I explained to her that only destruction will come into her life with that attitude.  And that mommy and daddy love her too much to let her walk through life like that.  We want God's best for all of our children, all of His blessings poured out on them.  But we know that will only happen if they walk in obedience to their parents, and their God.  I was heartbroken for my daughter, and at a total loss as to what to do.  There was no way I could continue to battle with this girl day in and day out.  I wouldn't last.  Plus, I had hardly any quality time with my boys since my attention was occupied with Hannah.  And, my poor husband, who by the way is so sweet and so understanding and supportive, only got my unloading and my wrath at the end of the day.  Not so good for a marriage either!  So, as I've been thinking about and praying about my girl, and what to do, I heard from the Lord clear as day, "Marissa, why don't you just ask me for help?"  It was so simple, yet so profound at the same time!!  I looked back over the last few weeks to try to figure out what happened.  Here I have a loving God, who holds the universe in the palm of His hand.  Who has the resources of heaven at His disposal.  Created the earth and everything in it, including my daughter.  And instead of me reaching out to Him for help, especially in a time where I needed Him the most, I pushed him away.  In my foolishness and my pride, I pretty much told God, "I've got this one, Lord.  Thanks but no thanks."  And in doing so created utter and complete chaos in my house.  Why do we do that?  Why would we turn down the help of our creator, our God?  Why do we think that we can somehow do it better than Him, when time and time again we mess it up?  I've learned that God cares about the details of our lives.  He cares about the nitty-gritty of our crazy days.  Not only does He care, He wants desperately to be a part of those details.  He wants to help.  All we have to do it ask! 
1 Corinthians 9 says this, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  God is not looking for perfect moms, perfect wives, or perfect women.  He is simply looking for us to admit that we can't do it on our own.  That we need Him everyday.  I'm thinking about my power compared to God's power....um, I'd really rather have the power of the God of universe working through me than mine!! I don't want to live a life where I try to portray that I have it all together, but at home I feel like more often than not I'm literally just trying to survive my days.  I'm not enjoying my kids like I'd like to, and we just aren't having any fun!  I am choosing to say to the Lord everyday, "God, I need your help!!  Please pour out your grace over me and my children today!"  I know we will still have hard days, but at the end of the day I want to be able to look back and see the evidence of the Holy Spirit in our day!

Blood Stained Grace

This week I was faced with the reality of just how ugly my selfish nature is.  I am humbly reminded that I cannot survive a day without the unending Grace of God.  Grace that flows so freely, so mercifully from my love and saviour, Jesus, who gave his own life so that I may walk in the freedom that comes from this precious and beautiful gift.  As I am raising my children, 5, 4, and 1, I am learning more and more what an amazing gift Grace truly is for me.  A gift that so many times I choose to leave tightly packaged up in the beautiful box that has been sent to me, wrapped in love and sealed with the blood of the lamb.  If I could just grasp the intensity, the beauty of what is inside that box.  Today, I pulled that box down off of the shelf I had stored it on.  Not sure of what I would find inside, I began to carefully pull back the wrapping paper. The wrapping paper was none like I've ever seen before.  It was covered with writing, and the same blood that sealed the box was somehow woven like a piece of lace through the words.  I pulled it closer to read it, and I began to see the words come together.  As I read, a love story emerged from the words.  The story tells of a King who fell deeply and madly in love with his beloved one.  But, as he tried to love her and pull her close to him, she began to pull away from him.  She was being pulled in the direction of another.  Not knowing that death and destruction awaited her, she turned her face from him, and began walking away.  The King grasped her hand, and began to walk behind her speaking and singing softly to her love songs, trying to get her to turn her head back towards him.  If he could just get her to gaze into his eyes once more, he knew she would stay.  But she kept walking.  As they continued, the King saw a battle ahead of her that would surely take the life of his beloved, but somehow she could not see the danger she was would face.  He began to sing a little louder, but she ignored him and continued to walk.  The King knew that the only way to save her life would be to go before her, to battle for her, and ultimately give His own life to save her.  This story seemed so familiar to me, it felt so near but somehow distant.  Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I looked down at my hands, realizing that they are covered in the very blood that was used to seal it.  I ran to the sink to try to wash it off, knowing that there was a life that was sacrificed for that blood to seal my box.  A life that I was so unworthy of.  The blood wouldn't wash off, and as I looked at my hands, I saw the blood begin to graft itself into my skin, going into the very blood vessels that run through my body bringing my flesh life.  I could almost feel the blood reach my heart.  My heart felt somehow fuller, healthier.  I felt life flowing through my body again.  Suddenly I heard something.  It was faint, but I could almost make out the sound.  It was a song, a song that I had heard before.  I remembered the box, realizing the song was coming from it.  As I knelt back down to open the box, I saw a tag on it.  It read "To my Beloved, Love your King".  I was swept over by a wave of emotions.  Joy and peace soon overwhelmed my soul.  My King, My King...Yes, I remember!  I was taken back to the first day we met and fell in love.  It was though I had never left.  I flung open the lid to the box in anxious anticipation...could it be?  After all of this time, after all I have done and said, could he still want me, still love me?  Inside the box was a book with my name on the front.  I picked it up and opened it.  I began to read the story of a young girl who fell in love with a King...my story.  The pages were filled with the stories of my life.  Some of the stories were my victories in life, some of love and romance.  Some of joy and peace.  Some filled with pain and sorrow.  Feelings of defeat, helplessness and hopelessness.  Some of loneliness and isolation.  Some of the stories were of my mistakes, things I've said and done that I felt shameful of.  I closed the book and held it tight to my chest.  I didn't dare let anyone read my thoughts, my mistakes...it was too painful.  As I looked up, my tear soaked eyes where met by another's, my King.  Here we were face to face again.  I wept and looked down in shame.  He put his hands on my face to lift it up to meet his again and so softly said, "My beloved, why are you crying?"  I couldn't open my mouth to respond, but it was as if he heard my thoughts.  How could he love me after reading this?  Why would he possibly want me back?  I was holding on to the very stories that took me away from him.  I was so ashamed.  What could I possibly offer to him?  Then gently he said, "Beloved, give me your book.  It's OK, you can trust me."    Everything in me wanted to hold on to that book as tight as I could.  I wanted to bury it where no one would ever find it.  But something in me knew that this would be the only way, I had to let go.  My hands were shaking as I handed it to him.  He carefully lifted it out of my hands and simply said, "I love you".  He then handed the book back to me and said "It is finished."  As I opened it I saw the same blood that covered my hands now covered the pages of my book.  The blood was so dark that I couldn't read the words that described the mistakes and defeat.  They where gone.  The thoughts, the words I said.  All of it, gone.  It was almost as if the blood washed them away.  I wept again.  But this time fell tears of joy, gratitude and love.  I began to feel an overwhelming sense of peace again.  My heart was beating strong for the first time in a while.  I looked up to my King, smiled, and said all I could think of to say, "Thank you.  Thank you."