There are days where I want to ask God exactly what he wants me to get out of that particular day. Days where nothing seems to go as planned, no matter how good the intention. Days where it seems the most prudent course of action is to just give up and go back to bed. But of course that can't happen, because children still need to be fed and loved, my husband still needs a warm meal when he gets home, and the house still needs to be reasonably cleaned because people are coming over that evening.
I did, actually, ask God that very question this afternoon. The same afternoon I sent all three of my children to take quiet naps (and would you believe it, they did). As I asked that question, "Lord, what do you want me to get from this day?" another slat in my front room blinds fell out. I'm not joking.
You see, we had a major pipe leak in our front yard this past week, which means the whole front yard needed to be dug up and new pipe laid, and really there is a big mess out there. The leak is fixed and we have running water, even if there is still a big hole, and for that I truly am grateful. Of course the children have been watching daddy dig a giant hole in the front yard through the windows. That means they have been moving and playing with the blinds and a couple of them, through the natural course of things, broke. Silly me, I just turned them around, connected the bottom to the hook thing and called it good. And it was. Until this afternoon when I asked God my question.
You know what I think he is trying to tell me? To accept my imperfections. To accept the imperfections of those around me. To be totally reliant upon him for the grace to do what He wants me to do and not what I want to do. That my children fail, and I fail equally and because I am bigger, older, and somewhat wiser, I fall harder. (This was shown to me today when the six year dropped the five gallon water jug on the floor in the effort to clear the counter to make room to empty the dishwasher. Good intention, bad execution. The jug broke and water went everywhere. I yelled, I was scared, he could have been hurt. Later, as I was getting snacks and drinks for the kids to eat at the picnic table, I dropped both BOTH cups of water, which also went everywhere. Again, good intention, bad execution. I cried. You see, He seems to say to me, you fail too.)
And when I fail (and likewise when my children fail) I am totally reliant upon His mercy and forgiveness. And then I pick myself up, clean myself off, and try again. And there are days where I will do nothing but fall and spill and fail. And I should be grateful for those days just as much as I am grateful for the good days. Because they remind me of my humanness. They remind me what it is to be a child. They remind me of just how reliant I am on the goodness and grace (and mercy!) of God.