Posts Tagged ‘grace’


Photo credit: Datapro

Mothering is tough. It just is. I struggled with discouragement most of today. It was a beautiful day, but inside me was a storm. I was feeling overwhelmed by the bickering and grumpiness of 6 kids. I finally went for a long walk and talked to God and poured out all of my frustrations. The air, the sunshine, and the prayers cleared my head until I could face my family again.

I love being a mom, but I choose to love it. It’s not all sugar and spice. One thing that I’m grateful for is that I’m not alone. I have the support of family, friends, and readers. And most of all, I can rely on God’s promises. I was reminded of that again as I read this story from my dear friend Christine. Be blessed!


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I’m awake, but I don’t want to open my eyes.  I know what the day holds for this mama when she gets up. Laundry. Fussiness.  Dirty dishes. A grimy bathroom–lying in wait to greet me.

Despair.  I don’t want to move, yet I must.  I must fight. Maybe some time in the Word will refresh my soul.  The words I read are true and my mind knows it, but my heart is numb.  I read “His mercies are fresh every morning”

Now the stillness of morning is gone, and the children are rising like the sun. Bright. Ferocious. Intense. Tears are spilling on the floor over breakfast preferences, and little ones are refusing their mama.  I want to run.  Why is the fight so hard?  I know his mercies are afresh, why can’t I feel it?

I want hard evidence, I want to feel, I want to know His grace is sufficient.  I run.

Leaving my cares inside our little bungalow, I rush outside.  I feel urgency, maybe even panic.  Must feel, must know.  How do I know it’s even morning?  I can’t even see the sun rise.  Buildings all around block out its awakening and warmth.  I climb.  Must fight for joy and sanity.

I find a way.  Sure it’s not conventional but it will work.  Haphazardly, I climb on top of the freezer chest, balancing on two plastic containers.  Must find a way.  My body pulls my weight up, and I have made it. I can see the hard evidence.  I can feel the warmth.  I can see and know His promise.

I feel hope.  I don’t care what the neighbourhood thinks.  This country girl needs to pretend she’s not in the city.  I soak up the sunrise atop our small shed, and know that His Mercies are fresh every morning.

 “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

Lamentations 3:22-23


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iStock_000011314964SmallI had no idea mosquitoes could be this prolific. Now that I live in northern B.C., spring has become synonymous with “mosquito season.” My children look like they have chicken pox, and I hide indoors unless I am running fast enough to stay ahead of the blood-thirsty horde. Yes, it really is that bad.

My husband and I have different approaches when it comes to dealing with mosquitoes in the night. First, I will try hiding under my pillow, and if that doesn’t work I expose my face to the mosquitoes and wait until I feel the stinging of their proboscis and slap myself—hard.

Kevin lies awake scanning the room with a flashlight. He will jump up and go mosquito hunting when he is sufficiently tormented by their high-pitched whine. I think that I am kept awake more by the guy with the flashlight than the mosquitoes.

I know he’s wishing I’d get up and hunt those mosquitoes with him so he can go to sleep in peace, and I’m wishing he’d just stick his head under the pillow and stop flashing that light in my face.

This is just one tiny glimpse of the common frustrations that come up in marriage. It’s not that one way in necessarily better than the other. They’re just different, and sometimes our differences clash. This is where a sense of humour comes in handy! And the humility to accept those differences as part of God’s great plan can give us the grace to face the day with a smile.

Still, I’m going to hang the mosquito netting over the bed and hope for more than four hours of sleep tonight! 🙂


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Broken Just Right

If you’ve read my post What’s Wrong With Me? Then you know that housekeeping is not my forté. The boys room was getting pretty bad (maybe really bad in your books), so I sent them upstairs with a broom and instructions to clean their room.

It was sounding a little lively, but I let it go until I heard, “Mommy, the broom’s broken.” Down came my boys carrying my mangled broom.

“How did this happen?” I asked.

“I don’t know. We were just sweeping,” came the innocent reply.

I was more then a little irritated as I swept the floor that afternoon. The broom was awkward to hold and would obviously need to be replaced soon.

The following day, when I next went to use the broom (Oh alright, maybe it was a couple days later), I found it surprisingly comfortable to use. Just holding it slightly turned made all the difference. Actually, it was more comfortable to use than before it was broken! And considering the fact that a broom is made to sweep and not to look nice, I realized that it was broken just right!

As I reflected on this, I realized that we can be broken just right too. Nothing is wasted. God uses our trials, pain and hardships, our weaknesses and disabilities, to mold us into useful vessels to bring Him glory.


“And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,

for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”…

2 Corinthians 12:9

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