Needing Forgiveness

What a day. The kind of day that involves a lot of spilled stuff...goldfish, gasoline (left out by the lawn mower by mistake), spaghetti, strawberries, torn pear tree branches, sibling rivalry, lots of urine to clean...and all this on the week I have to finish details on the kids' choir coming this weekend.

My patience was thin. Hair thin. Hair that's been over-processed thin.

And then this...his third bath of the day...

Tyler dumped water out of the tub and got it on a considerable amount of floor.

As I helped him clean, I heard a crash in the kitchen. The lunch I was microwaving...

I rushed into the kitchen to see the damage. I knew, I knew this was an accident. It happened because Noah was trying to help. Yet, though I could keep my voice down, the frustration in my voice was still present. Noah, sensitive child, picked up on it, and quickly said, "I'm sorry, Mommy," as I not so sensitively slammed the food back on the plate. Again, his sweet voice says, almost begs, "I'm sorry."

I manage a tight, "It's okay, Noah. It was an accident. I know you didn't mean to do it."

Then, "Mommy, do you forgive me?"

"Yes, Noah, of course I forgive you. I love you. I will always forgive you," yet I walk away as I say it, in a hurry to get back to the mess in the bathroom.

"Does God forgive me?"

I pause. Whoa. Whoa.

CRUSHED. The boy is crushed. And so am I.

Whoa. Wow. The power of a Mom and her words.

All mommies have moments where we totally mess up. Where we break down so quickly what we spend our days and prayers trying to build up. I know this, I know all mommies mess up. But, these are my boys and it doesn't matter to me that all mommies make mistakes. In this moment, all I know is that I love my boys and I never want my words to hurt them. My boys' sense of security and esteem shattered by my impatient reaction. All for silly stuff. All for nothing. What does it matter that there's water on the floor? What does it matter that the food got dumped on the stove?

Whoa. Sigh.

My granny used to say, "You won't know it 100 years from now." I use that often to remind myself that this is all so temporary. So fading. So unimportant.

But I have my moments when the craziness of parenting overwhelms me and I find myself having to ask forgiveness yet again. Find myself having to rebuild the tender feelings that crumble when Mommy forgets that the people, not the things, matter.

Noah, do you forgive me?

Tyler, do you forgive me?

God, I know You forgive me. I know You always forgive me. I know You love me. I know You know I didn't mean to mess up. Help me be better tomorrow. Help me see my boys in the big picture and know that someday, as the more experienced moms tell me, I really will miss the spills and chaos. Maybe not the urine, but the rest.

Help me show You to them, by being more patient, more loving, less temporary. Less me. More You.