Friday, June 2, 2017


This morning I had a melt down.  Call it hormones or feeling overwhelmed or whatever.  I can't put my finger on why the meltdown happened so fast and so furiously.  But I will tell you that the tipping point was seeing bread crumbs and yogurt scattered across my freshly vacuumed and steamed floors.   Ok maybe it was definitely 100% hormones.

Here's how it happened: Macy was singing happily in her crib, my 3 boys were in the backyard riding bikes and doing skateboard tricks and actually getting along.  I should have been whistling a tune and patting myself on the back for a job well done.  But no.  I was standing in the kitchen, looking at the pile of dirty breakfast dishes (wondering again why we don't always use paper plates for every meal of every day) and that's when the dirty floors caught my eye.  I just started SOBBING, y'all.  Like the full on ugly-cry that catches you unaware and overwhelms you to the deepest part of your soul.  I couldn't even stand up.  I literally just couldn't hold myself up anymore.   I buckled to my knees and cried like no one could hear me or see me. And even if they did, I honestly didn't care in that moment.

I'll admit that this cry had been coming on for a few days.  Sometimes it's a bunch of little nothings that turn into a big something and suddenly you feel like you can't breathe.  So let me just say this so you know I'm not actually crazy: IT WASN'T THE FLOORS that made me fall apart.  That was just the point at which the last several days emotions decided "no more." It felt SO good to cry.   But while crying can release some things, it certainly doesn't fill you up with anything.  And in order to get up off of my knees and do the things I needed to do today, I needed to be filled up with something bigger and stronger than myself.

"Lord, you know all my desires and deepest longings.  
My tears are liquid words and you can read them all."  
Psalm 38: 9, TPT

So I started doing the only thing I knew to do: I cried out (quite literally!) to the Lord.   To give me his strength and his peace and his joy.  To let his great power be made known in my great weakness.  Because let me just admit to you that parenting 4 kids, 3 of them being boys, is not easy for me.  I came from a CALM household of 2 children: 1 boy and 1 girl.  My current household is not calm.  It is not quiet.  My biggest motivation for waking up every morning at 5:30 is not just to spend time with Jesus and have coffee, but it's also to sit in peace, calm, and quiet. Because come 7am…well, the calm and the quiet disappear.

And so I laid on my kitchen floor for who knows how long, crying and praying + praying and crying. I thanked God for my hormones. I told the enemy where to go. I asked the Holy Spirit to equip me for this thing he's called me to. And then I wiped off my tears, stood up and took my kids to school.

Has the rest of this day been perfect? No.  But here's the thing about these little emotional life hiccups: they happen.  It happened to me today and it'll happen to you eventually.  I believe wholeheartedly that what God is really after here is what we do with these emotions.  That's what matters.  That's where our faith gets deeper and stronger and grittier.  In those moments of weakness and complete dependence on him, THIS is the place where he is best able to do deep works in us.  This is where he is able to fully function as our potter while we accept that we are, in fact, clay.  This is where I want to be found, always and without restraint : less of me and more of him.

If you happen to see me today, be gentle ok? I am still in that cry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat-zone.  I'm also thinking of creating a bumper sticker (because folks still use bumper stickers, right?) that says "Hormones Happen."  Also I'm totally joking. Happy Friday friends.