Sudden raging anger over the simplest things.
She doesn't come when I call her.
She gets out of bed for the millionth time.
She hits her sister.
She loses control.
Why do you have to act like you're three? Why can't you be mature? Why can't you act like you are supposed to? How many times have I told you not to do that?
And there I am. Yelling again. Filled with anger at a child that I asked the Lord for, whom I love so very desperately. And suddenly I'm the one who has lost control.
Perhaps I'm the one that is not acting like I am supposed to.
I read this today, written by another broken mother (who also happens to be Ann Voskamp). Here we are trying and trying, and yet we still forget why we were created.
And so I am thankful for a good Father. Who forgives more than we deserve. Who loves more deeply than we can fathom. And who longs for us to give ourselves over completely.
Battle for joy, or lose your life. Or other's lose theirs.
I choose joy.
What will you choose today?
