Thursday, April 18, 2013

I never thought ...

In all of those long and painful years of waiting patiently on the Lord to bless us with children, I never once saw myself growling at our children. Nope. Not once!  
I truly thought I would be a patient mom. Yesterday I proved myself wrong. 
Oh, so very wrong!

I've got to give you the back story to my less than stellar mommy moment. I'm on a liver cleansing diet - it's 8 weeks long and I am well into the second week.  It's not an easy diet - in fact I've done it once before and I was downright miserable. For more than a year I've been noticing some things about my health that made me feel like I should really try the liver cleanse diet again, but as you know ... I'm kind of a chicken. I don't like giving up my favorite foods or experiencing the symptoms of the toxins being released from my body, but I finally bit the bullet and started.

Can I just say that even though I love just the act of baking and {usually} use a great deal of restraint when I do bake, I am still a carb addict! Oh yeah. I miss my muffins! My toast and tea. An afternoon cookie. My wee taste of chocolate each day ... This diet consists of no wheat, no sugar, no dairy, limited red blooded meats, limited fruits, lots of raw veggies, wild caught fish and seeds and nuts. Seeds and nuts people! Suffice it say I eat a lot of salad - but I've always eaten a lot of salad so it shouldn't be a big deal, right? Here's a funny thing - I can eat unlimited tomatoes, broccoli and pineapple on this diet - my three worst allergens! Ha!

Needless to say my energy levels are low. Really low. Lower than usual. I enjoyed my first taste of hormone free chicken and the first simple carbs (in the form of 1/4 cup steamed brown rice) I'd had in over a week and suddenly I was fueled! I mean - watch out! I had some energy to burn.

I got ambitious and grabbed the vacuum to rid the house of the inch of dog hair that had gathered since Saturday. I mopped all the floors, washed the rugs and steam cleaned the tile. I was on a roll! I went to bed knowing that the clean floors wouldn't last long - after all the three inches of dust on the furniture would eventually float on down to join the freshly shed dog hair, but I thought 'At least a day of 'clean' floors will be such a blessing!

We woke up Wednesday and started the day as always - faces washed, everyone dressed, beds made, laundry brought to the laundry room,  a quick breakfast, devotions and TREK ( Storyteller's AWANA book). The verses our Storyteller was working on just touched my heart so deeply and brought me such joy!

We were treated to a dramatic reading of Scripture from Revelation 20 - wow! We pulled out the hymn book and sang 'Victory in Jesus' together - perfect for our discussion on the Second Coming of Christ, and then nipped into language arts. In the background our Dreamer was running through the three Sonatinas she has memorized for her upcoming Guild Auditions - amazing! I have to admit that I sat back, sorely missing my morning cup of tea, but with a heart full of thanksgiving, as I drank my oh so boring water.


Before long it was time for a potty break for our dog Bailey and I needed to iron a cooler top for myself. Storyteller took her out, and while I was ironing, he decided to check out the back yard to see just how wet it was. After a long night of heavy rains. Heavy rains. All night. Our already saturated lawn was a mess. I really think that Ohio has the stickiest mud I've ever encountered, and most of it is in our clay pit backyard.

'Yep! Too wet for baseball!'

He came in, took off his daddy's shoes (which are waaaaaaay too small for him) and let the dog off of her leash, while he proceeded to the table for more school work.

All was well until ...

I came back from the Grammy flat with my freshly ironed clothes and saw the white tile floor of our sunroom. That I just vacuumed, mopped and steam cleaned. The day before.

Covered in mud. The mat covered in mud. The floor splattered everywhere. Mud caked shoes scattered here and there. 


This is not an unusual occurrence in the spring so I think I would have been just fine if I had not glanced at the stairs up the to the kitchen. Muddy paw prints. Mud on the walls. Mud on the pantry door. 

Enter Mama Bear.

I growled.  Really, I did. Out loud.

The children heard me and immediately Dreamer sweetly says, 'Brother, I think you are in trouble!' Ha!

Some sharp toned questioning followed.

Facts were entered into evidence.

Evidence was gathered.

The suspects were identified.

The dog was apprehended, but not until she trailed her muddy self through the whole house.

A vigorous dog bath ensued. 

Lots of 'I'm sorry'.

More growling. Mama apologizing too.

Scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, washing of clothes, washing of many towels, washing of the mat and washing of daddy's shoes. Again.

When we got back to school work about an hour later, my blood pressure had returned to normal and I was ready turn this into a life lesson.

The reason for the mud trail ... 'I never thought'.  

In the mind of a 12 year old boy,  a yard that is way too muddy to play in does not necessary mean that that same mud will come into the house on feet and paws. It doesn't translate into hours of work and laundry and frustration for the mama - but maybe it will now.

As we spotted and scrubbed and watched the dark stains ease down the drain, we talked. As we applied the shampoo and  watched the white suds cleanse away the dirt and as we got on our hands and knees and removed the evidence from the carpet, I confessed.

I don't always think either.

I make lots of mistakes every day.  I sin. I agree with God about my sin - it's nasty. It stinks. It mucks up everything and makes a terrible mess. I repent, apologize, enjoy God's forgiveness and start again with a fresh page. Every day I whisper a prayer ... 'Lord, make me more like Your Son today. Let my life bring glory to You.'

I love that my big strapping, taller than his mama 12 year old still loves to hug me hard. Well, except when he stinks, but you know what I mean. God used a 12 year, a muddy yard, a crazy dog and my growling heart to teach me about grace and forgiveness yet again.

And I'm just so very thankful.


  1. I remember reading a book by Ruth Graham where she asked God to not let her children remember all the times she yelled at them.

    What was funny way that none of them could recall any time their mother yelled, even though she said she did it quite often out of frustration (part of which was practically raising the children alone). :)

    Loving the Tea Time magazine. Thank you for thinking of me.

  2. I've really enjoyed reading your blog, so I've nominated it for the Versatile Blogger Award. Learn more about it here:


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