14: Mr. Mom

Kathleen ran back to Iowa this week to see her mom who is ill, and I got the privilege of being the mommy. (Her mom is doing a little better. Thanks for your prayers.)

I really haven’t tried to do much pastoral work this week, so I’d guess the last four days (has it really only been four days???) is pretty typical of what Kathleen experiences all the time. The exception of course is that I have the hope of her coming back soon. So where I am only playing Mr. Mom for a few days, she’s got another 17 years or so.

I’ve been trying to do it all: quick runs to the grocery store, laundry, cleaning, schooling, comforting, etc... Several very generous people have made us meals, so I’m probably not experiencing the full weight of mommy-hood, but I think I’m getting the picture. It’s quite a job. At one point I was frantically running through the house trying to find my shoes so I could take Keziah to the Emergency Room. All kinds of thoughts were running through my mind. "Should I leave the other kids alone while I go to the ER?" "Can I call a neighbor?" "Do I have time to gel my hair." (Hopefully, I’m not that vain, but I had just got out of the shower.) It didn’t even occur to me to call 911. I guess the little edible robots the kids made with toothpicks, marshmallows, and licorice weren’t such a great idea. (To my credit, I didn’t let them put toothpicks in the robots made for the smaller two kids.) Luckily, she coughed up the toothpick before we made it out the door.

Another time I was pretty much at the end of the rope after Malia missed the potty. I actually did okay with cleaning it up and all, but then later she was squirming around when I was putting her new pajamas on and I just about lost it. I didn’t actually yell at her or do anything to her, but I admit, I most certainly felt like going berserk-o. What can I say, I’ve got testosterone issues. I’m just kidding of course. The issues were not testosterone issues, but character issues. Actually I was pretty discouraged by the whole event because I would like to think I’m a little more spiritually mature than that. God help me!

Then there was last night, or this morning, or whatever you want to call it. Jireh woke up at 1:00 screaming. I drug myself out of bed and got him some milk. That helped for a good five minutes and then he started at it again. I let him cry for another ten or fifteen minutes and then I went down to comfort him. Of course two fears ruled my mind, 1) what if he has an ear infection?, and 2) what if I can’t get back to sleep? After thirty minutes or so of cuddling him and singing Jesus Loves Me to him I put him back down. Another thirty minutes or so and I was free to go back to sleep. Of course that was several hours ago, and instead of laying in bed I’m writing all of you. (Maybe that’s that whole thing about mommies wanting some adult companionship.) Anyway, of course the discouraging part of it all is that they’re all going to start waking up in two hours. I’ve got a whole day ahead of me with very little rest. (That should really help my irritability issues, huh?)

The verse that comes to mind is Matthew 6:33. It says, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." I don’t need to worry about tomorrow (or is it today now?). God will give me grace. He gave me grace to get through yesterday, and the day before, and the some 14,000 and some days before that. There has never been a day that was too much. Sure, I might be a little sleepy, but maybe I’ll get a nap, or maybe Kath will come home early, or maybe God will just help me minute by minute to keep faithfully serving him right in the midst of my exhaustion. That’s my hope. Somehow, someway, God is going to get me through today, and tomorrow, and hopefully the next 14,000 days after that. God is good.