666 Mom

This evening, one of my boys was chattering away as he fiddled with our home phone. I was only half listening, as I find myself doing far too often these days. Suddenly, I tuned in when I heard him say, "Look, 666 is for you, Mom! That is your code. Mom-666!" 

I have to admit that the past few weeks haven't exactly been sweetness and light, but I was fairly certain that I hadn't sold my soul or morphed into the Antichrist. Quickly, I realized what he was talking about. The letters M O M are all located on the number 6 of the dialpad. Coincidence? Perhaps. After a laugh, I had to admit that things have been pretty dark around here lately. 

Anyone who's known me for any stretch of time is well aware that I am not a fan of winter. Winter is, as my boys are fond of saying, my nemesis. I try to join in the merriment and deck the halls with the rest of the world, but internally, that's me sitting over there in the corner rocking and drooling. I just don't do winter. 

This year, however, has been the worst by far. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, it's rare for my husband to be home before 8:30. Sometimes later. So, it is just the boys and I. Although I don't like it, and I wish that my husband had a schedule that was more accommodating to family life, we manage. I try not to gripe too much and make the most of the time we do have together. 

But this winter (Yes, I do realize that winter officially started mere days ago. I am in denial.) has created the perfect storm of Yuletide misery. I'll spare you the details, and really, the details don't matter. We all have something. An ache, physical or emotional. A soft spot where we are vulnerable to the darts of the enemy. An area where we are unsettled and fragile and will start embracing lies instead of running to the truth. 

But this year, I have started to harbor envy in my heart. I envied friends who have scores of involved extended family member who dote on and watch their kids, allowing them to enjoy an occasional break. I envied women who seem to be able to balance homeschooling, keeping a pristine home, and throw on something other than yoga pants (Confession: practically the only kind of pants that I wear are yoga pants. I've never done yoga in my life.) when they leave their home. I envied women who seemed to have obedient children who don't struggle as mine does. The list is endless and ridiculous.

So many positive things are happening in our lives and in our family right now. We have the privilege of partnering with the most amazing ministry in Africa. We are in the process of bringing our beautiful daughter home. In exactly one month I will be in UGANDA!!!!  My children are healthy. So why all of this discontent? I think my boy summed it up tonight. Mom- 666. Mom = sinful. Mom's heart is deceitful and desperately wicked (Jeremiah. 17:9). Despite the fact that God has blessed me with so much, my heart wants more. It wants something different. What she has instead of what God Almighty has decided that I need. 

So, I know this has been a Debbie Downer post. Wah, wah, waaah. I've pounded out quite a few similar depressing accounts as I have worked through this nasty emotional wreckage these last few weeks. In the end I always scrap them. I joked with a friend that I was going to post about how I'd really been feeling, and she was as serious as a heart attack when she told me that I should. "Those are the posts that matter," she said. And I knew that she was right. 

Tonight I was reading in our advent book (Yeah, that's right. Advent book. And it is Dec 29. Maybe we will finish it by next Christmas) and this verse popped out at me. 

Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens. -Psalms 68:19

Daily. Day in and day out. When I want to sob and don't even know why. When I feel alone and pathetic and am sure that I am the most incredible failure in the history of moms/wives/homeschoolers/housekeepers/insert-your-area-of-failure-here. I am not in this alone. 

Of course, intellectually I know this. Every Christian knows it. But tonight the truth of it just washed over me in a fresh way. I want to grow and learn and be who Christ made me to be, and I know that isn't a selfish, spoiled brat who requires Prozac at the sight of a snowflake.

I know that I can't snap some spiritual fingers and hop out of this funk. But I am trying to reject the lies that my sinful heart wants to perseverate on and cling to what I know to be true. I reached out to a woman who's faith and walk with Jesus I admire. I asked her to consider mentoring me and she accepted. Poor thing doesn't know what she's in for. I feel like that kind of prayerful guidance is something we all need from time to time and is a step in the right direction. 

I guess I am posting this because in our world of status updates and tweets, everyone else's life looks so much better. Happier. Easier. And it is a farce. Life is tough sometimes and emotions are fickle, but God is good. If you are in a season like I am, just hang on. God is the Quicker Picker Upper. Even for us most blessed messes. <3