F5 Keys and New Mornings
Toddlers are challenging. So are newborns. I once heard someone say, "With young children, the days are long, but the years are short." I often recite it to myself.
Sometime before Cora was born I became aware of a pattern. My children would throw a fit at bedtime, and I'd wake up with a groan and start the day holding a grudge. Some sense of dread may be inevitable, but around that time this passage came to mind:
"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness."
Lamentations 3: 22, 23
It dawned on me that I am far from perfect, and yet grace is extended to me each morning. It's a new start, a chance to do it right without being reminded of what I did wrong yesterday. If God could extend that grace to me, why shouldn't I ask for help in extending it to my children? And so, after especially rough bedtimes, I would wake up and say to myself, "New every morning... Lord, help me to forget!"
It helped, for a while. But it soon became apparent that grudges from the day before were not the only thing weighing me down. A fit early in the morning soured our entire day. That's when I realized I needed to take things five minutes at a time. Every five minutes, I would take a deep breath and "refresh." The old was forgotten, and we moved forward. I would give my kids the opportunity to surprise me and do better. And if they didn't in those five minutes, they had the next "refresh" to get it right. Over and over and over. Five minutes at a time throughout the entire day. It reminded me of the F5 key on the computer, refreshing to see what had disappeared and what new things might emerge.
But even that isn't enough. I'm discovering that my children aren't the only ones making mistakes (what a shocker!). I become frustrated. I lose my patience. I shout at them, or punish them too harshly, or ignore them. I am a first-born, and by nature I'm probably harder on myself than anyone could ever be on me. And so I carry a grudge through the day--against myself. It darkens everything. I am learning (slowly!) that His grace is sufficient for me, not just at the start of the day, but throughout the day as I blunder my way through being a mother. And so every five minutes, I hit "refresh" on myself. A chance to start over. To enjoy my kids better. To let go of the things that have made me a bad mom.
I believe to the core of my being that I have been called to be a wife and mother. If I'm called to do it, I need to do it to the best of my ability, with God's help. I don't ever want my children to feel like they're the lowest item on my list of priorities. I know some days they must feel that way. I am human, and I have bad days, but my family shouldn't get what's left of me once the rest of the world is done. They should get my best more often than anyone else. Still, it is hard. So very hard some days.
Today I've taken things five minutes at a time. Sometimes it's taken five series of five minutes to adjust my thinking. I'm on at least my twelfth five-minute interval since tucking the boys for naps, and I'm still taking deep breaths and saying, "Five minutes. It's been five minutes. Start over." But I'm grateful for the chance to start over as many times as I need to. My children and I are both a work in progress, five minutes at a time.
Sometime before Cora was born I became aware of a pattern. My children would throw a fit at bedtime, and I'd wake up with a groan and start the day holding a grudge. Some sense of dread may be inevitable, but around that time this passage came to mind:
"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness."
Lamentations 3: 22, 23
It dawned on me that I am far from perfect, and yet grace is extended to me each morning. It's a new start, a chance to do it right without being reminded of what I did wrong yesterday. If God could extend that grace to me, why shouldn't I ask for help in extending it to my children? And so, after especially rough bedtimes, I would wake up and say to myself, "New every morning... Lord, help me to forget!"
It helped, for a while. But it soon became apparent that grudges from the day before were not the only thing weighing me down. A fit early in the morning soured our entire day. That's when I realized I needed to take things five minutes at a time. Every five minutes, I would take a deep breath and "refresh." The old was forgotten, and we moved forward. I would give my kids the opportunity to surprise me and do better. And if they didn't in those five minutes, they had the next "refresh" to get it right. Over and over and over. Five minutes at a time throughout the entire day. It reminded me of the F5 key on the computer, refreshing to see what had disappeared and what new things might emerge.
But even that isn't enough. I'm discovering that my children aren't the only ones making mistakes (what a shocker!). I become frustrated. I lose my patience. I shout at them, or punish them too harshly, or ignore them. I am a first-born, and by nature I'm probably harder on myself than anyone could ever be on me. And so I carry a grudge through the day--against myself. It darkens everything. I am learning (slowly!) that His grace is sufficient for me, not just at the start of the day, but throughout the day as I blunder my way through being a mother. And so every five minutes, I hit "refresh" on myself. A chance to start over. To enjoy my kids better. To let go of the things that have made me a bad mom.
I believe to the core of my being that I have been called to be a wife and mother. If I'm called to do it, I need to do it to the best of my ability, with God's help. I don't ever want my children to feel like they're the lowest item on my list of priorities. I know some days they must feel that way. I am human, and I have bad days, but my family shouldn't get what's left of me once the rest of the world is done. They should get my best more often than anyone else. Still, it is hard. So very hard some days.
Today I've taken things five minutes at a time. Sometimes it's taken five series of five minutes to adjust my thinking. I'm on at least my twelfth five-minute interval since tucking the boys for naps, and I'm still taking deep breaths and saying, "Five minutes. It's been five minutes. Start over." But I'm grateful for the chance to start over as many times as I need to. My children and I are both a work in progress, five minutes at a time.
