Last week we had no water. Now the bathtub is full of murky green water that won't drain. The kitchen sink is unusable and the counters are piled high with dishes harboring caked-on food.
My patience is wearing thin. It's becoming a burden to wash dishes in the bathroom sink rather than the "fun adventure" I had convinced the kids it was at first. The rotting pieces of food floating in the adjacent tub laugh at me.
I should make our son a dentist appointment. Do I find a baby-sitter for the other kids or do I take them all with? That would mean bundling them all up, buckling them in their car seats, and keeping them all entertained and quiet while trying to convince our little patient in the dentist's chair that dentists aren't scary. I better just find a baby-sitter. But who's available in the middle of the day? What if it takes longer than I expect?
I can't decide.
Ouch! Lifting our 8-month-old out of her exersaucer reminds me that I need to book another chiropractor appointment. I'm a professional at throwing my back out.
A sore back makes me feel irritable all over. I snap at the kids and beg for peace and quiet. If it wasn't for my sore back and raging hormones, I would be a kinder mother. That's what I tell myself; it couldn't possibly be my fault that I'm grumpy!
My husband phones at lunchtime and I tell him I feel like throwing a temper but am holding it in for the sake of the kids. "I want to act like I'm a two-years-old for just five minutes!"
I tuck the kids in bed for their afternoon naps and sit down to check my email. I've planned my Facebook status. People ask me to be "more real" online? I'm going to give them "real!" I'm going let them know just how awful my day has been.
But first, I check my notifications.
I'm stunned by the message in my inbox sent by a friend:
"In one day we lost a job and a church home, and probably our home in general because of our bleak financial situation we will have to plan on moving soon. I am struggling with faith right now and I could really use some prayer."
Waves of shame and sorrow hit me at the same time. Suddenly my inconveniences seem so petty.
I complain about plumbing problems; she has four small children and is losing the roof over her head.
I complain about having to visit the chiropractor and dentist; she can't afford either if she needed them. She doesn't even know how they're going to pay for their next grocery bill.
I complain about people who get upset with me online; she doesn't even have a church family to support her.
It's easy to complain about no shoes until you see someone with no feet; about over-cooked food until you see a child with nothing to eat.
If I did get what I do deserve, I wouldn't just have no plumbing, no house, no chiropractor or dentist visits, no money, no friends on Facebook, and no church family.
I would have no hope, no Savior, no salvation, no life, no nothing.
Indeed, it is precisely when I don't get what I deserve that I have the most reason to be thankful.
"For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Romans 6:23
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8: 35, 37-39
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