To The Mom Who Is Fresh Out Of Happy This Holiday Season

Last summer I bought two pictures on sale at a local home store to spruce up the basement. One says, I choose to be happy.  The other says a host of beautiful things written in clever font that fills the canvas perfectly. Use kind words. Be nice. Be grateful. Relax. Eat healthy. Share. Love freely. Be happy. Both pictures are bright and cheery and brighten up our otherwise dark basement in a very inexpensive way. They inspire all that is good. I love looking at them....except when I don't.

There are some days when I am fresh out of happy.  Days when my bad attitude, paired with just the wrong circumstance (like my two year old screaming "I hate you!" at me, discovering nail polish art on the wall, or getting in a fight with my husband), collides in a massive explosion of fury with all that is perfect and good and lovely on my bright and cheery canvases.

In those moments the pretty pictures hanging on my wall begin to speak.  They speak in mocking tones as they deliver blows like this:

What a failure you are.  You don’t choose to be happy. You are totally screwed up. Your kids are going to be scarred for life. You are a horrible mother. You will never measure up. You are beyond hope. 

Welcome to the warfare of my mind.  I do apologize for the abrupt introduction. But if you are honest, maybe you can identify with the all-encompassing fear and doubt that threatens my ever-fragile soul daily.

Satan wants to destroy me and he’ll use whatever he can to do it. Even pretty pictures hanging in my basement. I need truth to combat the lies. Someone bigger than myself to take pretty, lie-spewing pictures out of the enemy’s hands and remind me of truth.

God is that Person. His Word, the Bible, is that truth.  He is the One who made all I see and who holds the universe in His hands. And He looks on me. He is for me and desires my good. 

Those printed phrases and statements that hang so beautifully on my wall are good and true and desirable. It is a good thing to seek to attain those ideals.  It's just that when I fail, I don’t have to spin out of control, spiral down into the ever-familiar black hole of despair, or worse, become so numb to my failings that they become the comfortable norm.  How quickly I forget that my performance was never the source of my salvation to begin with.

My failure can and should serve a different purpose in my life. My failure should serve as a reminder of my own ineptness apart from Christ and point me to the all-sufficient righteousness of Christ.

In Christ, my failure leads not to condemnation, but to worship.

I worship the only One who has ever and will ever perfectly live out all that is good and right and true.  His name is Jesus. In my worship of Him, in my gratitude to Him for being all that I could never be, I continually return to Him and live.  I pick myself up, receive His forgiveness and move on, because I am not hopeless.  In Christ my life changes because my perspective changes.

Let me give you an example of how Jesus changes my perspective.  This scenario played out a few months ago during one of those mornings when nothing was going right and I was just making things worse with my huffing, puffing, and yelling.  Feelings like this are to be expected by say, 4:30 in the afternoon.  But on this particular day I was already in an emotional tailspin and it wasn't even 9:00 am.  

The morning is so hard for me as the stillness and quietness of the coming dawn collides with the noise, needs, and demands of children. I miss the stillness before it is even over. I need You, the Prince of Peace who is always available, yet I long for the elusive peace of circumstance.

In rage and desperation I escaped into my bedroom away from the turmoil and neediness of the children this morning.  I locked the door and made my way into the bathroom where I stepped into a hot shower. I just needed a minute. A “mommy is unavailable” minute.

It was glorious. I tried hard to keep guilt at bay and fully enjoy the warm water as it beat upon my shoulders. I didn’t rush myself.  I just stood and breathed and let my mind relax.  It wasn't long before my recent harsh words, impatience, and anger filled my mind. As I stared my sin in the face I was broken in the best kind of way. I was keenly aware of God's love for me despite my actions. Jesus forgive me and help me.   

I washed, shampooed, conditioned and shaved. Hallelujah!  Alas, it was time to turn off the water.  With the turn of the handle the water stopped and with it the imitated silence in my shower stall. My four-year old was banging on my door and my two-year old was kicking at his, screaming all the while. The older boys had miraculously started school, probably jolted into obedience as a result of my outburst. Still, circumstances were not peaceful. 

Yet somehow, standing there in the shower stall, You changed my perspective. Instead of anger I felt gratitude. Instead of exhaustion I felt hope. In the midst of failure I felt renewed. In a frantic moment of escape I met You, God.  Or rather I should say You met me.  Exactly where I was, with compassion, forgiveness, and grace.

Thank you for my babies, Lord. Help me love them. It’s going to be okay.

Lord, help me turn the ordinary, mundane desperation of today into sacred, raw, moments of worship. In all of my imperfections you receive my worship because of Christ. Thank you, Jesus, for being righteousness for me. Rain down your grace. As often as I need it, change my perspective. Change me, Lord. Thank you for being faithful when I am faithless.

To the desperate mom out there who is fresh out of happy, I understand.  God understands even more.  You don't need to find your happy before you come to God. He loves to work with broken vessels.   

I pray that as often as you need it, He will change your perspective, too.  Maybe the stakes have gotten higher for you and your stubborn two year old has turned into a teenager who still claims to hate you. Maybe your four year-old, nail-polish-obsessed daughter has grown up too fast and has already been hurt. Whatever your current challenges, I pray God’s truths would seep down into your spirit in fresh ways and give you hope. God is never fresh out.  He can still be found. It isn't too late. Run to Him.

If this Christmas season is inspiring a frantic free-fall of emotions instead of a peaceful holy night in your heart, know that you are not alone.  May we press in to Jesus by faith and expect Him to change our hearts like He changed the world over two thousand years ago. 

“But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you.  Now if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he is not His...But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.”  Romans 8:9-11

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If you want the Spirit of God to dwell in you all you have to do is receive salvation through Christ. You can do that now. You may pray something like this:

Lord, I have not acknowledged your authority in my life up until this point.  I have gone my own way and forsaken You.  I recognize that as wrong now.  Please forgive me.  I believe that you have the authority to forgive me because You walked the earth fully God, yet fully human, and you never sinned.  You went to the cross and died to take the punishment that I deserve.  On the cross you took on my sins and gave me Your righteousness. Because of my faith I am credited with Your righteousness and fully accepted in God’s sight. Thank you, Jesus.  Help me to know You more each day and open my eyes to understand the Bible.  You are my Maker and You are now the main authority in my life.  You always have been, but now I know it. I love you, Lord.  In Jesus Name I pray, Amen.

This Christmas may you dwell inspired as Christ dwells in you.