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Let The Masks Fall Off

Sitting at my computer this afternoon, tea steaming beside my keyboard while children nap soundly upstairs you could be deceived by the state of my heart just a few hours ago.

Around 3 am I woke to a little voice beside my pillow, whispering a regretful and recently all too common phrase; “Mommy, I tinkled in my bed.” With a sigh and reassuring pat, I pull the fox sleeping bag from under the bed whose main purpose is for this moment and try to control the grumpiness in my voice as she silently whimpers over her accident. Accidents happen, sleep is lost, everyone is fine. I toss and turn as my overly fatigued mind carries on without rest.

Within what feels like minutes I wake to a hungry son overly ready to begin his daily banana routine. I tip-toe over the fox-bagged beauty and the day begins. Coffee on, breakfast poured and spilled, questions begin, fits thrown, snuggles are had, plans are made, and we leave the house. Gym and play date are on the calendar, a simple and enjoyable day should be in the forecast. But, this queasy first trimester stomach is feeling leery of much more than a nap.

Done with the gym, onto a date at the mall with a dear friend. Encouraging and refreshing conversations are what I’m looking forward to; maybe a shirt or two for me. Once there, we enter the vortex of no parking spaces, packing the stroller, handing out snacks, and racing against the wind to get inside, friend is found and we meander strollers through stores catching up on small talk as we go. Blue onesie or green? Neither matters in this moment as my girl informs me of an emergent need to find a potty. None is near, so we run. To the other side of the mall.

By this time, children’s tummies rumble and the food court is all too inviting. My helpful friend finds a table, we get food, pay more than expected, recruit a high chair, and explore the area for a single plastic knife. I sigh deeply as I sit down, divide our much longed for sandwich, and pass the bounty to my children. As my friend and I begin our conversation, my mind is distracted by the potent smell of poo on my right. My usually ravenous son, hasn’t touched his food in the slightest and looks at me with an imploring “Uh-oh.” The cause of the smell has managed to seep, no, burst forth from his saturated diaper down his leg, onto his sock, and all over the food court high chair and floor. I hold my breath and begin the clean-up...

On our drive home after a play date cut short, my mind wrestles with thoughts of frustration, failure, and embarrassment. I know my friend doesn’t expect me to have it all together, but was her morning completely ruined by my disastrous presence? Why didn’t I have the foresight to cancel today? Why do I try to do too much? Why am I such a failure? This downward spiral of falsely-founded questions seem extreme, but when I don’t abide in the Truth, my mind wallows in lies.

The Way the Truth and the Life, tells us “Come to ME, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” What Jesus doesn’t say is “Come to me all you who are completely put-together, strong, and proud...” But that’s what I want. In my pride, I want to come across as a completely flawless pastor’s wife, mother, and friend. I don’t want my “poo” to be seen by others. I want to be an idol and have my idols.

Thankfully, my Savior has not only offered me rest and given me all manner of righteousness through His blood, He’s also not done with me. Daily, moment by moment, I’m being made into His likeness. Selfishness, entitlement, greed, idolatry, unkindness are being swept away, are leeching out of my flesh. This community He has placed around me daily sees it and reinforces the truth of who I am in Christ. Co-heir. Beloved. Rescued. Beautifully broken.

Allow your brokenness to be seen, friends. Let your weakness be revealed so that His strength is made known, so that He may be your rest.