Something I’ve discovered over these last several years is how very childishly I can [potentially] react to what I like to refer to as “life’s little tiffs”. Life’s tiffs are not important, and they do not really qualify as battles; still, they are unpleasant things we must deal with in our day-to-day lives.
Interrupting an all-important activity (like writing a blog post) to solve an argument or discipline a child
Even bad hair days
But another thing I’ve learned, and quite unpleasantly I might add, is that when I am going through an actual battle (and only when I am going through it God’s way) I am much more equipped to handle the tiffs.
Case in point:
Last night we decided to go to church. We have been less than faithful attendees, lately, and we have made up our minds to change that. We also decided to go early for the pot luck so that we would have more time to fellowship.
“Can you remember what time the pot luck starts?” I shamefully asked.
“I just know it’s sometime between six and six-thirty,” Papa Bear answered.
“OK, yeah, I think it’s 6:15. That gives me one hour to shower, dress, get the kids changed, nurse the baby, and make a dish. Do you think you could pick out clothes for the kids?”
“There’s nothing I’d love more!”
Oh, I can dream, can’t I?
I took a quick shower during which I actually shaved my legs (and I have no idea why because I already knew I was wearing jeans), and I emerged from the steamy bathroom to find one very hungry babe and four older children who were on their way to dressed.
“Thanks, Hun!” I said as I rummaged through the kitchen for a quick pot-luck dish.
“Pastor said not to worry about a dish if it was too stressful.”
“Too stressful?!” I balked. “Did you tell him what we’ve been dealing with?”
“No, not yet. He just knows you’re busy.”
“Well, I’m not going to make mooches out of the biggest (in numbers) family at church. I’m sure I can come up with something.”
I [literally] threw together a spinach casserole and then nursed Baby Bear while it broiled and cooled. And after a quick diaper change and one last shoe hunt, we were on our way.
Or, were we?
“I’ll be right there!” I hollered. I sprinted into the bathroom to put on deodorant (either the first or second coat, I can never remember), and then I grabbed the diaper bag and headed down to the van.
“Are you ready?” Papa Bear quizzed.
“Yeeeee…Oh, I forgot the food! I’ll be right back.” I ran up to the kitchen, grabbed the food (which was still very hot), and made my way, gingerly, down the stairs.
I once saved an entire pot of hot apple cider as I fell down a flight of stairs, and I’ve never let myself forget the near tragedy.
Then, in an instant, I turned to close the door and practically threw my spinach casserole all over the front stoop, letting out a loud squeak in the process.
“What happened?” Papa Bear asked as he loaded the last child in the van.
“I dropped my dish, ” I whispered, standing over the mess and fighting back tears. “Oh well,” I tried to laugh. “I hadn’t even tasted it, maybe it would have been awful!”
We took about ten minutes to clean up the mess so that the handy man wouldn’t cut his feet. I held open the bag as Papa Bear scooped heaping piles of spinach and glass.
We were almost done when I heard, “Mama!? Bay Bit peed!”
I walked over to the van and carefully lifted her out. “It’s OK, honey. Let’s go get you changed.”
I know God was with me as I cleaned her and picked out a new outfit. It wasn’t even hard to stay calm, although I was consciously aware that Satan was probably testing my resolve. And believe me, I can be an easy victim of such pop-quizzes.
“Babe?!” Papa Bear yelled up from downstairs.
“I’m up here,” I answered. “Bay Bit had a little accident.”
“Oh, well, the van keeps dying on me. Do you think maybe we’re not supposed to go tonight?”
“Hmmm…” I thought; and then I laughed. “I think maybe we are supposed to go.”
So we did.
We all entered the church building with smiles on our faces, and not the fake kind, either. And I think my smile was more of a smirk, resulting from a secret between me and my Savior.
“I can totally pass this!” I laughed to
myself my God.
“I never doubted it for a minute.”
I can do all things [teeny-tiny and painfully weighted] through Christ which strengtheneth me.