I was ugliness this past Sunday. Not in my outward appearance, but in my heart.
Honestly, this came out of nowhere. The morning had been so good, very relaxed. The kids were doing a great job playing together and I was doing a few tasks around the house. Everyone was mostly ready to go to church and I let the kids play downstairs.
About 15 minutes before it was time for us to leave I called downstairs for the kids to start cleaning up. When I came downstairs a few minutes later, I was amazed at the chaos that was created in such a short amount of time. Should I really be amazed by this? I have been a mom for several years, I should come to expect it. And, we do have a ball pit downstairs that begs to be destroyed. Too bad I wasn't thinking clearly or I would have taken a picture.
I started talking loudly urging the kids to get the balls back in the ball pit. There was little response and I could feel that I was ready to burst. I should have left, but I didn't. I let it all out. I am thankful that no one was there to capture a picture of that.
Benaiah started sobbing. His little heart is easily hurt by a harsh tone. I yelled at him to stop crying. He covered his mouth. I left, telling them that they needed to keep working while I finished getting ready for church.
Great mom, right? Probably want to sign me up for parenting classes right now, but it gets worse.
As I was getting dressed I hear Benaiah cry out, "Mommy, I went pee pee in my pants!"
Seriously!?!
Once again, I went downstairs and lost it. I ended by blaming them for ruining such a nice morning. I knew I needed to stop and thankfully I eventually shut my mouth, got Benaiah new pants and silently helped the kids clean up the basement.
As I write this it makes me cringe from the ugliness of it all. I keep changing things, trying to make it not sound as bad, but that just feels wrong because that isn't the truth, it was bad. And I need to be real about the ugliness for the beauty to really be seen.
It didn't take long before I felt so much shame for my outburst. The look on my son's face and the impact that my poor choice of words left on my children raced around in my mind.
As we walked to church and I carried my son and held my daughter's little hand, we started talking about things that made God happy.
"Do you think God was happy with how mommy treated you guys downstairs?"
Both of the kids shook their heads.
"That's right. God was not happy with how mommy yelled at you. I was wrong." And then I looked them each in the eyes and asked them to forgive me for yelling at them.
"I forgive you mommy," Emerson said with a smile.
If my children don't already know it, they will eventually know that I am a mess. But it needs to go beyond that. They need to see that I am willing to admit that I am a mess. That I needed to be forgiven for how I responded that morning and that I will definitely need to be forgiven again in the future. And, I hope my transparency helps my children to feel free to not cover up how they will mess up, especially as the mess ups get bigger as they get bigger. I want us to really know, love, and accept each other as we grow together. There is so much freedom in being known and loved for who you really are, messiness included.
Beauty can be found in the ugly.
