I don’t know about you, but this time of quarantine has shown me a lot about myself. And, not necessarily the good stuff.
On Easter, a day that is full of hope and joy, so fraught with meaning and purpose, I was an unpleasant version of myself. In fact, by 10 am, I had already successfully snapped at each and every member of my family—possibly the dog too. I lacked patience. I had an abundance of irritation.
We tell our kids, “If you have a problem with everyone or everyone seems to have a problem with you, it’s time to consider that you might be the problem.”
It finally occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, my family wasn’t the problem.
So, I apologized to my crew. I admitted my failings, and I told them how I would try to change.
And on the day went.
Someone asked me to open their plastic container of mandarin oranges. I opened it, and juice spurted all over me. I nearly lost my mind!
Later, we ZOOMed (is that how you say it?!) with my family. It was a nice Easter day online gathering…one where I learned that I have not properly trained my children on ZOOM etiquette. I nearly lost my mind!
The day had some merit to be sure, but it was one of those where I nearly lost my mind with every. little. thing!
But the sun set just like it does every night, and the evening held promise. My children were in bed, and I knew a peaceful night of sleep awaited me. The promise of silence—beautiful, beautiful silence—was ahead. All I had to do was walk down the stairs to check on the kids.
It’s all I had to do. Walk down the stairs.
But, oh, it wasn’t meant to be.
A few steps in, my feet slipped out from under me, and down I tumbled. Two children quickly appeared after hearing a THUD! I was flat on my back with hot tears streaming down my face.
It was one of those days.
Can you relate? Sometimes life just knocks our feet right out from under us.
And you know what, sometimes it just hurts. Sometimes, we need to cry. Sometimes, we need a hug. And in these moments, I am reminded of God’s promises in Lamentation 3:22-23:
It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
His mercies are new every morning. Tomorrow is a new day. Or, like Miss Stacy says (for those of you who know and love the classic, Anne of Green Gables), “Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it.”
Maybe you need to hear this today. You can restart. You have fresh mercies available to you. Yesterday doesn’t determine today.
We are in this together, friends. You are loved.
Adoption, foster care, and advocacy were not part of Jami’s dreams for her life, but God changed her heart when He made her aware, and she is passionate about helping others become aware too! She and her husband Clint are parents to their seven children (five through adoption).
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