Broken

I'm not a "touchy-feely" person.  I'm definitely not a hugger, and if I open up to someone, I spend the next week regretting my words.  That's who I am.  Perhaps it's part of my stoic New England background.  When I was at Remuda Ranch for treatment, I realized it was part of how I handled life.  Sometimes, it's easier not to really "feel" things.  Working as an ICU nurse, I had to block out many emotions, or I would have been unable to care for my patients and I would have gone home a complete wreck after every shift.

I know that this mindset is not always healthy.  Sometimes, God really needs to break you.  That happened this week.  I sat down at the piano (lately more of a dust collector), and started playing.  Micah just sat at my feet and listened, and the girls happily played in another room.  After a couple minutes, all 3 girls came tip-toeing in, and I heard their silly whispers.  "She is!  She's playing the piano!"  I love playing, and really should do it more often.  My songs of choice:  good old-fashioned hymns and gospel songs.  That's what I grew up playing, and those are the songs that really speak to me.

I must say, that we spend a lot of time singing in this house.  In fact, if you were to listen in for a day, you might think you were in the midst of a musical.  I always loved watching the Rodgers and Hammerstein productions, but thought they were so unrealistic.  Who goes around singing through their day?  Um -- we do.  I thought it was odd when I first heard the girls singing random things:  "I'm going to get a pencil", etc.  But then I realized I do that, too.  "Micah is a stinky boy", etc.  We don't just make songs up.  We also sing lots of Sunday School choruses that I grew up singing.  Often, while we are singing, the words choke me up, but I can usually brush it off and move on.  Well, not this week.

I think it was a combination of things, but I'm pretty sure the girls were stunned as they handed me about 25 tissues and kept whispering "Why is she crying?" and "We're sorry.  We won't do it again." 

"He looked beyond my fault and saw my need."  Those are the words I couldn't get past.  The Holy Spirit started chipping away at the outer protective layer I had formed around my heart.  You see, I, along with I'm sure many others, have a hard time looking beyond my own faults.  When I look back at my day, I see lots of black marks shouting "Failure!"  Satan whispers to me, "You lost your temper.  Your children will always resent you for that."  Or, "You weren't disciplined enough.  Now, you'll never catch up."  My head knows the fallacy in all of Satan's lies, and I can refute them easily with Scripture, but sometimes it takes awhile for my heart to catch up.

When I listen to the lies, it's easy to fall into a slump.  Every moment feels like a failure.  I feel alone and destined to screw up again.  I can tell my children that God is always with them, but I forget to practice what I preach and beg Him to help me through the day.

So, when I really began to internalize the fact that Jesus covered all of my faults at Calvary, and that His mercies truly are new every morning, I felt free.  Yes, I may have yelled when I could have solved the problem much differently, but Jesus set me free from the bondage of that guilt.  He looks at me and sees His child who needs grace.  He also sees that I love my children and I do work hard for my family.  He sees that I care about what they learn, how they eat, and when they brush their teeth.  I'm not the "good-for-nothing-slacker-mom" that Satan keeps reminding me.  I'm the "child-of-the-most-high-God-who-draws-her-strength-from-the-King-of-kings".  Lord, please help me remember that, and feel free to "break" me once in a while.  Clearly, this stubborn girl needs it.