Night has come upon this Tuesday and tucked the sun in bed. I have a few moments all to myself and I am reflecting on the past week. I don’t know about you but sometimes life just doesn’t go the way I want it too. I frequently combat cynicism because it seems like so often when I allow myself to anticipate something, my plans will be thwarted some way, some how.  The past week has been especially difficult – A fourth Sunday of missing church, a second week of missed Bible study, Mother’s Day plans tossed aside, serious health concerns within my family, disagreements within my social circle, bidding farewell to a best friend, a sore and exhausted body, a selfish attitude that ruled my tongue…shall I continue?

The gentle nudging of a compassionate Savior is urging me to not allow my focus to remain on the mishaps, the scraped knees of my heart, the battered and bruised spirit that is ashamed of all that it has done wrong. How can I tell that He is nudging me? It’s the little significant things: timely Bible verses texted to me by a friend; regular check-ins by another friend; meeting lovely new neighbors; seeing how my businesses are really enabling me to connect or re-connect with incredible people; spontaneous toddler hugs; infant belly laughs; pets that know their daily routine; a husband who lets me cry out my burdens on his shoulder and who is the most loyal supporter and enthusiast of all I do.

Most of all, it’s those persistent Bible passages that pop into my mind when I am wrestling with my behavior, knowing that where I want to be is not where I really want to be: passages that remind to me to love when I have been wronged, to embrace self-sacrifice, to give when I would rather receive, to serve when I long to be served.  You see, the main reason this hasn’t been an easy week is because I have resisted laying my life down for others.  I wanted things to go my way and, just like any toddler who throws himself back and hits his head on the wall, my spiritual temper tantrums have only left me sore and exhausted. But God sets the standard for parenting; He consistently enforces His will through discipline but never once ceases from soothing and loving me back on track. I am thankful for that.

I don’t really know if I have a moral for this story; I just felt like writing, and I hope you were able to glean some nugget of truth or encouragement from it. If you did, I’d love to hear from you. I know that I always benefit when I read of other humans in real life, especially when they point to God as the hero that He is.