Broken Promises…

“Mommy, you still haven’t sewn my monkey!”

“You said you’d make me a new jean skirt!  I loooooved that skirt!”

“But you said I could go play at the park today…”

“You haven’t made the yummy bread in FOR-E-VER!”

Sound familiar?  Maybe it’s just me.  As my kids have gotten older, I’m realizing they remember more than I do.  Call it mom brain.  Honey-do list overload.  Stay at home mom apathy.  Homeschool frantics.  Broken promises and forgotten dreams.

I never intend to forget the stuffed animal repair (for uh…6 months???) or think about what I say can happen later that day only to find myself six steps behind my agenda for the day.  I have great goals and aspirations of being a better mom….yet I still find myself mentally checked out at 6pm.  Video games? Sure.  Netflix?  Go ahead.  Just don’t fight, argue or talk to me because Mommy is done.

I’m not coping well.  My current failures with this new season of life transition.  All three kids homeschooling, CC Director, a 4th Grader in her first year of Essentials and my husband gone for 36 hours in a row 3 times a week has made it abundantly clear to me I need grace.  Oh, I knew it would be a tough transition.  I knew it would be hard.  I knew I’d be exhausted.  Somehow, I just thought by now I’d be better at it.

Yet in this I have seen how vastly different I am as a frail, sinful, human mother and how perfect my heavenly Father is.  He never forgets His promises.  He is not overloaded, or filled with apathy.  He doesn’t check out at 6pm.  Instead, He whispers in His Word

Ho! Every one who thirsts, come to the waters;
And you who have no money come, buy and eat.
Come, buy wine and milk
Without money and without cost.
“Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
And delight yourself in abundance.

It’s Him I need.  I can’t be the perfection I desire for my children.  I can ever only be just frail, human, mom.  I can’t be everything for them.

It’s Him they need.  Not supermom.  Not Wonder Woman.  Not June Cleaver.  Even as I can aspire to being a better mom, their need isn’t for me.  It’s for their perfect Father.  And if each one of my failures can point and show off His perfection…then my ashes can be beautiful indeed.

to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;

that they may be called oaks of righteousness,

the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified. (Isaiah 61:3, ESV)

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