Mondays can be difficult – especially Spring Mondays with pollen and allergies and children who cannot quite overcome the fatigue of the weekend.
Words fly hard and fast. Words that sting, words that anger, words that wound. Why do they wound so deeply?
And I am the wounded leader. Praying God gives me self-control so I can guide and direct. “For the anger of man does not bring about the righteous life God desires.” Those words from James 1 flit about my mind as my heart contorts in angry frustration.
Why it is easier to believe a lie than the truth? And my mind wanders down treacherous roads that don’t end in easy answers. They just end in one question. Do I trust God?
And still the questions come…Am I helping them or just piling truth on them when they need grace and how does one know when grace or truth is needed? Or are grace and truth the same and if they are how can I give truth gracefully and grace truthfully?
And I ask for forgiveness because I am not self-controlled. I did not treat them how I would want to be treated. And I feel the refining fire and it burns deep. Dying to myself is a real kind of dying, but there is life on the other side. Some days I have to cling to the promise of life on the other side of dying to myself – other days I experience the life.
And so Tuesday morning came and mornings are not my thing. At. All.
And we made it downstairs to breakfast with little drama and so I turned on some music. I needed it and my kids did too…
And it was a good morning…Good because God gave us health and breath. Good because we laughed and danced and made it to school without drama.
How quickly I forget that God uses music to heal us, change our attitude, remind us we have hope in Him. Perhaps that means what we listen to does matter? What do you think?