This day started much like any other day. Enthusiastic little people pestered me until I finally got out of bed. Then I fed them a little breakfast to stave off hunger from their little tummies, and I put a little video on to entertain their little eyes.

I managed to get my pot of coffee brewed, and I cleaned up a few things, and then Amelia asked if we could do school. That sounded like a good idea, and I’d certainly earn a point for being a good homeschooler if I did that, so I went and fetched the necessary things to help her learn another letter.

That’s when it all started to fall apart. While Amelia and I were trying to sing our little songs and learn our little letters, Mike and Judah were being difficult and distracting. Then Isaac added his two-cents-worth, and pretty soon I had had enough of this crazy little thing called “school”!

We finally called it quits, and I headed upstairs with Judah to put him down for his morning nap. After plopping him in bed, I went and crashed on my bed. It was only 9:00 in the morning and I’d already had a full day’s work. Amelia came in to check on me asking, “Why do you feel like taking a nap?” I answered, “I don’t feel like taking a nap. I feel like laying here crying.” So she climbed up and sat on top of me and peered over to look in my face.
“But you’re not crying!” she observed.
“I didn’t SAY I was crying,” I argued, “I said I FEEL like it.”
“But you’re NOT crying!” she repeated.
By then I’d had enough and I recognized the folly of arguing with a four-year-old, so I told her to go downstairs and leave me alone. Amazingly, I was able to doze off and rest for about an hour before Mike and Amelia returned to wake me up. By then I was feeling somewhat refreshed, so I came back downstairs to re-start my day.

Within a short amount of time the second start to my day was just as bad as the first start. Interruptions, spills, squabbles, all combined with my frazzled nerves, made for a volatile cocktail. I felt like I was on the verge of tears, barely getting from one thing to the next, but still trudging on.

By the time my sister Joyce found me mid-day, I was sitting on the front porch, hugging my arms around myself, ignoring the chaos around me. Joyce listened sweetly to my sorry self and then said goodbye as I took my two oldest children to art class. After I dropped the kids off, I felt a little lost, with no one pestering me.

So I went to Krispy Kreme and sat with a donut and a frozen coffee drink. I just sat, quietly, and watched traffic go by. It was a good opportunity to review the day and ponder what had happened.

Finally I prayed and poured my heart out to God. I told Him that I just can’t do it all. It’s not physically possible to keep up with all the parts of keeping a home and schooling children. I can’t do everything AND stay sane.

Then I realized that perhaps this is exactly where God wants me to be. Maybe He wants me to understand that I cannot do it all, therefore, if I have a good day, I need to give Him credit. So often I want to feel competent and capable.

I want to smile modestly when someone says, “Wow, you’re incredible!” (”Why, yes, you know, you’re right!”)
I want to say to a friend, “Oh, well, you know, you just do what you have to do. It’s nothing, really.” (”Everyone should be as capable as I am!”)
But when I realize my own “nothingness” and my own inability, then I can’t take credit. When I realize that I can’t do this job that God has given me, then I must humbly point to Him when folks tell me I’m a good mom.

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Today was really a horrible day. I can’t pretend it was anything other than that.

But I can tell you that God can redeem what seems to be lost. When I got home after art class, things were calmer, and my attitude was more resigned. I knew I was broken and empty, but I also knew that it was a good thing.

Once Michael got home, we had a nice evening. We spent time with the kids, and then it worked out for Michael and me to go out to supper thanks to a gift certificate for Olive Garden from the Junior Choir at church. We had a wonderful time visiting and enjoying good food.

As I muse over my day and the lessons learned, I hope that I’ll be able to call out to God for help in the hard times, and give Him credit in the good times. I don’t like being weak! It’s a tough thing to embrace.

Thank you, Father, for being so patient with me and holding my hand when I think I can’t go on any more.