As most full-time working mamas, I spend my days off tackling the household chores and projects that get overlooked and ignored during the week. I was blessed with a day off yesterday, which gave me two days to roll up my sleeves and take on those things on my list that would make me feel as if I had really accomplished something. I'm not sure why I do this to myself.
From the moment my feet hit the floor this morning, I could feel the temper bubbling just beneath the surface. Stewing, begging to explode. I knew it. And yet, I didn't slow down long enough to remove myself from the heat.
I heard 'Mama' a minimum of 1,956 times before noon. Of which, I attempted to ignore 1,744 of them. I pretended not to feel the 28 pound toddler crawling on my legs as I scurried from one chore to the next. I may have even hushed her a time or two. It's hard to remember.
My attitude was nothing short of foul today.
A day that marks the same day when those that followed Jesus felt as if all hope was lost. They must have walked around with emotions boiling, spewing onto everything and everyone within spitting distance. The day must have seemed dark; their hearts darker.
My heart was pitch black today.
I wanted silence. I wanted peace. I wanted solitude.
I spent two hours {TWO. HOURS!} trying to untangle four necklaces from each other. Please don't ask how they got into such a mess. I'm still disturbed by the whole situation.
After two hours and only two freed necklaces, I wanted to pull my hair out. I even tried. In front of my daughter. I think I stomped my foot. I recall saying rather loudly, 'Crap, I give up!' {And yes, I really did say crap and not some other colorful four letter word.}
I asked my daughter, in not such a nice tone of voice, to stop calling my name. I attempted to teach her how to play the quiet game. I shutter just thinking of how awful I was today. To her. To myself. We can make excuses and justify our actions by saying we're just human. Everyone has days like this. Everyone gets frustrated and acts irrationally. Everyone loses hope sometimes.
Sometimes our days are nothing more than a tangled mess that we hang around our necks like a noose so tight; and then we wonder why we fight for breath. Today was such for me. And instead of turning to the One who could untangle the mess, I fought and struggled for air. I kept pushing my own way and pushing away the One who could give me what I fought and struggled so hard to find. I guess the necklaces were a perfect representation of the state of my heart today. Tightly tangled. With the thought of the Cross far off and the focus spent on the knot of all the emotions tied up in the middle of my selfishness.
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It wasn't until this evening when some friends showed up for dinner that He provided the way. A friend spied the tangled mess of the two remaining necklaces. She set about with tweezers and a safety pin and delicately made big progress in separating the two from one another.
Tweezers and a safety pin.
As I spend these moments in the peace and quiet and solitude, I reflect. I reflect on the day. And all the many mistakes I made. I beg His forgiveness for my attitude and my foolish tongue. If our words have the power to breath live or death, mine killed much this day. I ask Him to heal her heart and the wounds I caused today with my impatience and intolerance and inattention. I praise Him for showing up in the form of my friend and providing me with the tools to untangle the mess.
Sometimes it takes hands other than our own to delicately finger through the mess and pick apart the things that beg to be separated from one another. And it isn't until it is all untangled that we see the hand of God in all of it.
Everyone may lose sight of hope sometimes, but we never lose hope. Not completely. Hope lives. Hope rose from the dead and sits at the right hand of God. Hope is always at the center of the tangle. Always. Hope wins. Hope lives.
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