For the past several months, ever since I realized I would be approaching noticeable discomfort just in time for our city's annual fireworks celebration, I had been saying I would stay home this year with Little Lady (and that the guys could go on their own).
Well, guess who was the pushover of the day?
We headed over to the park after dinner, opting to drive part of the way instead of walking the entire way like we usually do. This ended up not being as great of an idea as we thought because: illogical drivers. It took us much longer to get home, but the kids were troopers!
They clearly take after their father.
Case in point: while we were waiting for the fireworks to start, I got grumpy because one of B's glow sticks hit me in the face (I had already asked him to stop throwing them around). And then A spilled an entire cup of lemonade on the blanket we were sitting on. Nich whisked the kids away for a potty break so I could compose myself (and not erupt!).
Tonight, after I had put A to bed, I read this: "You always know the man who has been through the fires of sorrow and received himself, you are certain you can go to him in trouble and find that he has ample leisure for you. If a man has not been through the fires of sorrow, he is apt to be contemptuous, he has no time for you. If you receive yourself in the fires of sorrow, God will make you nourishment for other people."
Oh, for the humility and teachable spirit to be true to who God has made me to be, even in times of sorrow and stress! And to be nourishment to those around me, even in the midst of adversity!
I crept into B's room to apologize for my grumps earlier and found him fast asleep ... and burning up with a 100+ fever. As I stroked his head and prayed healing over him, he reached up and held onto my arm in his sleep.
I'm so grateful for grace. Grace in every day, to try again and again, to be better, to be truer to who He has called me to be.
