Being a wife and mother is hard enough without the constant barrage of our own thoughts reminding us of our ineptness. We as women are constantly dragging ourselves down and destroying our own hopes before we ever utter them as a possibility. We become so preoccupied with the notion that we have to get everything done and it has to be perfect that we fail to see that the world is turning and moving on while we are still working on that umpteenth load of laundry.
Today a realization hit me so hard that tears began to freely flow. You see I have a part in the Walk with Christ program that Pocatello does every year for Easter. I have the part of Martha and I have been faithfully learning my lines and trying to perfect the pauses and inflections of each word and sentence. In between doing this I was baking bread (made from scratch, by hand, and not with a machine mind you), doing laundry and hanging it outside because I love the smell of freshly hung blankets, and scrubbing what ever surface that I could find. I am playing musical baby as I pass my son to any child who will help take him so that I can ‘finish’ my projects. However just as I finished one project I would quickly pick up another one. My children don’t vocalize their frustration but they begin to ask the questions I hate about this time of day. Are you done yet? Can we do something fun today? Will you play with me? Can I help you? These questions roll off their tongue like butter, slick and easy. It almost feels as though they have practiced these before. My usual response, I’ll be done soon go play, is right on the tip of my tongue as well. Weird, kind of felt like I had practiced that before too. Hmmm oh well. I continue on. After the 5th kid asks the same questions I begin to get irritated. This has a twofold response. The first response is the irrational frustration that just explodes out of my mouth before I even have a second to think about it. This child didn’t deserve that kind of response. By no fault of their own they ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong questions. I huff as this child leaves the room. The 2nd response starts out when my mind begins reeling. It does this when it is quiet. Which it is now, because all the children have left my presence, for fear of being the next one in my cross hairs. As my mind begins to open up it turns on every single channel. Let’s just say, for the sake of counting all of them, that Dish Network, Directv, and Cable one, have nothing on the amount of channels in a woman’s mind. And crazy enough all of them can be on and will be on at the same time. There are so many channels on and every one is so clear that it is easy to get lost in the conversations that happen in real time inside each synapse. As each conversation plays I decide to settle on a conversation so that it will drown out the others to some degree. This conversation begins with “If I had some help this house wouldn’t be so dirty. If these kids would just learn to pick up after themselves then I wouldn’t have to work so hard. If they, if they, if they,….this conversation goes on and on. Pretty soon the conversation turns inward. If I would just teach them better then they would know how to do all of these things. If I were a better mom then they would want to help me and not be afraid of me. The conversation shifts again. If I were thinner I would be happier with myself and I wouldn’t fret so much about my home. (I know, that part doesn’t make sense. But you’re in my woman brain…it’s not supposed to make sense) If I were skinnier my husband would love me better. If I wasn’t so sick all the time I would be happier and my husband would be happier. I wouldn’t cause him so much stress with the amount of money I cost. If I had thicker hair then I would think I was prettier. This list becomes an endless downright soul bash. I am suddenly thrown into a full on war with my emotions. There is only one thing about this that is the least bit productive. I clean when I am sad or frustrated. So all of those chores become the object of my wrath. I think and clean, clean and think. It becomes a whirlwind of spray cleaner in my right hand and a wash rag in my left. All the while I am thinking about how horrible of a person I am and how I wish I had help. As I am rounding the corner of hour 3, I suddenly have a thought that seems to jump out of no where. It’s as if someone left the remote to my brain down and my 18 month old got a hold of it. The weird thing is that everything else shut off as well. Yep had to be the 18 month old. He must have broken the remote. While I am trying to figure out this new silence my mind keeps coming back to a very calm voice that is playing in the back ground. I recognize it is me. I pay attention and begin to speak aloud the words. They are the lines to the Program. ”Because he knows what we do not know, he doesn’t give us what we want. He gives us what we need. Of all the millions of people, he knows me and my needs.” It is a realization that the remote wasn’t broke by the 18 month old but in fact it was being utilized by the original maker of my brand. The lord had taken over the remote and let me know that He does know me…and he knows my thoughts. The more I listened the more I realized how much like Martha I was being.
Luke 10:40
“ 40 But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.41 And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:
42 But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”
I had done this. I had started off complaining in my mind over and over about how hard my lot was. How hard it was to do everything that I had to do. I complained that I needed help and then went on and on so much so that I became cumbered. Did ALL of these things NEED to be done right now? Another realization hit, something stronger than the lesson prior to this one. There is no shame in wanting a clean house. There is no shame in wanting to bake bread or to be the best person I can be. There is no shame in wanting to be healed or be the kind of wife and mother my family deserves. The Problem that I had created was in the angst of it all. In being cranky about it the purpose wasn’t a pure purpose any more. I was no longer trying to do these things so that my family and I was happier and their needs were met. No..I was doing it out of anger and as an obligation. This is when my joy as a wife and mother turned into being cumbered about by many things. My heart broke slightly as I realized how I had turned my children away when they wanted my attention. I could have sat with them as Mary did the savior and learned from them and they from me. But no…I chose to be cumbered. Here in lies my new Edge of the Miracle. The lord wishes for me a different fate, a much different path than that of the angry mom-o-matic that cleans homes and destroys human interaction all in one motion. So I will take this leap of faith and make a better choice. It will be hard because that remote to my woman brain still has working batteries. However I am working on learning the new buttons and hopefully the channels from here on out will be a much better showing.
*Please send me your edge of the miracle story to (edgeofthemiracle@outlook.com). I will preview it and then keep in close contact with you before featuring it in an upcoming blog. There are people out there that need your strength. They need the kind of peace only your story can bring. Even if you don’t feel like it is worth a feature, just know that someone out there somewhere is needing to hear how you have overcome and the lessons that you have learned. You may save their life or quite possibly save many lives. We need your story.
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