some days are hard.

Some days are hard. Perhaps not tragic or life-altering, but just hard. And that's okay. As children of God, we are called to think on the pure and lovely - but that doesn't mean we ignore the challenges before us.

I was going to write about wellness this week. Which is strangely ironic as yesterday was rather hard due, in part, to a cold that's hit our tribe. One kiddo has had a hard time with the sheer volume of snot - which he insists on swallowing instead of blowing out. The copious amounts of mucus have upset his tummy to the point of forcing their way up and out --- all over our couch and carpet.

Perhaps it's un-motherly of me, but I don't do puke. Like, at all. But yesterday, I did. Not out of an abundance of love mind you, but out of necessity for remaining in our home. I assure you, if moving and leaving the mess behind were an option, I would have been at the post office filling out a change of address form yesterday afternoon. But alas, homes shown with puke don't move quickly off the market. So, I donned latex gloves, covered my face with my shirt,  grumbled the entire time I cleaned, and even scolded the puker for lieing to me about not feeling well. (I realize none of that will get me nominated for mother of the year, but like I said before, I don't do puke, y'all.)

Recently, I've felt convicted of allowing the emotion of dread to occupy my time. It eats up my joy and makes me anticipate potential inconvenience or hardship. It truly serves no purpose, whatsoever. But when puke is involved, I go in to a slightly uncontrollable panic that it's something that will spread through the ranks.

This morning, 20 minutes before my alarm was to go off for my quiet time with the Lord, in the depths of my slumber I heard a familiar voice. Completely incoherent, I stirred by did not awaken until I heard the dreaded words... those words I had fervently prayed I would never hear again... "throwing up." Instead of trailing off in my mind as part of whatever REM cycle dream my well-meaning child had interrupted, I bolted straight up in bed, flung back the covers, and jumped up - preparing to grab a bowl - a bag - the bottle of disinfectant - whatever I could to stop the vomit. 

Thankfully, it was a false alarm. The baby (who is totally not a baby, but is MY baby, and who I refuse to stop calling 'baby' despite the fact he is VERY MUCH a two year old!) was coughing ferociously, but NOT throwing up. Praise Jesus. Something to add to my gratitude journal first thing.

So, here I sit with my cup of coffee and laptop. There are cereal bowls all over the table. Half my kids are still in jammies, and one is still in bed. The washing machine has been working overtime, much like this momma. And that's okay - we're both more than surviving, we're still thriving.

Is it easy to have a house of sick kids? Nope. Will I still be tempted to flee the house like a crazy person if vomit is mentioned one more time? Absolutely. Do I feel bad or guilty or lacking in peace? Not this morning! Because Jesus reminded me through my sweet momma that being a good momma doesn't require liking body fluids. Praise God. If it did, my mother card would have to be completely revoked. My sweet husband is working from home today, and whether we...

******this is where my typing was interrupted by a frantic call from the back, "Mommmmmm! I didn't realize I pooped in my pants!" 
What?!?!?!?! These are the moments I wonder how this is my life. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, but I didn't know that at first. I ran to the bathroom in horror that could not be replicated by the most intense halloween-inspired nonsense.
​Okay, back to my train of thought (which I'm trying really hard to remember...)******

... whether we have a puke-free, perfect day or another challenging one full of opportunities to call upon the Lord for strength, we can be well. It isn't tragic or life-altering, but in the past these moments have completely stripped my peace.

Now I realize that most likely, my peace was dependent on circumstances instead of my Savior. I relied on convenience, ease, and lack of interruptions to govern my emotions. I don't have it all together, mind you - this still takes my active participation in laying aside the dread, irritation, and yes, sometimes horror - to embrace His everlasting peace that surpasses understanding.

And that's okay. I have come to truly believe He is glorified in my choice - and even in my struggle - when it's to be who He created me to be and do what He created me to do.

So, friends, if you're having a hard day... or a hard series of days, keep your chin up. It can be well with us, even when it's hard - and it can be hard even if it isn't tragic or life altering. There is grace. For the mundane musings of every day life, for the hard days where snotty noses and whiny voices stretch you thin, for the challenges of dealing with the arch-nemesis of your existence (in my case, body fluids). There is grace.

If you're having a hard day, leave me a comment. I'll be over here snuggling snotty kids, and praying for us and y'all!  ​