So while we’re on the subject of how thankful we are for new mercies, I should probably tell you that I threw a total hootie with my children last night.

It wasn’t pretty.

I yelled big time. Very few of my ramblings made any sense at all. I even mumbled a nice choice word under my breath which, to my horror, was heard by my oldest child.


A woman of valor I was not.

Though I won’t make excuses for poor behavior and I certainly own mine, I will tell you that I’m utterly exhausted. The demands of my home at the moment are great and I just finished the first draft of an eBook that will be released after the new year.  I’m beginning to put together a book proposal for the She Speaks Intensive in January. And Christmas is on the horizon.  Need I say more?

My exhaustion won and my thoughts began to smell and before I knew it, I had boiled over and lost control.  My head might as well have turned all the way around my body.

Here’s the thing: my children are a little challenged as of late in the area of putting their stuff away. We leave toys EVERYWHERE though we have clear places for them.  We leave shoes EVERYWHERE though each child has a shoe shelf in a cabinet that is located right next to the door.  We fling bookbags and lunch boxes and coats and gloves and mittens and hats and Lord-knows-what-else into a heap resembling Mt. Everest on the kitchen floor and we have hooks for these things, for crying out loud.

We have systems, people.

On most days, I am able to remind myself that I’m managing my blessings and its an honor to be a mother.  It is.  I get that.  And I believe it, too.

But not last night because I was just too freaking tired.

During the past two weeks, I have been threatening to clear out the play room if toys are not picked up throughout the day.

When I reminded my oldest son that he needed to pick up his Legos, he revolted.

So did I.

Here’s our play room as of last night at 6 p.m.:


Yes, I did it. Once they prove they’ll pick up after themselves, they will gradually get their toys back.

And while I don’t apologize for taking the toys because well…I told them this was going to be the consequence, I did apologize for my unraveling and the choice word.

I wish I could tell you this was the first time I had completely lost it with my children but I’d be lying if I did and I don’t need anything else on my rap sheet at the moment.

Each time I lose control, I do apologize and I explain what I SHOULD have done instead of what I DID do.

Then I would get everyone to bed and I’d crawl into mine and beat myself up for about an hour over the fact that I must be screwing them up royally and instead of saving for college we should be saving for therapy and maybe my daughter’s confidence problem is because I lose it now and then and come to think of it, perhaps that’s why Samuel bites his nails and Spencer struggles with speech articulation.

In other words, I listen to the lies.

The truth is, there is no condemnation in Christ Jesus.  He may not approve of my messages, but he won’t condemn.

So I pray that His light will cover over any wounds I may have inflicted upon my children during the day and I quietly burrow myself further into the covers, thankful for the new mercies and compassions He doles-out each morning.

Today is a new day with a blank slate of mercies freely-given served with a side of unfailing compassion.

I’ll take two, please.

I had planned to be a little more studious and theological in this post since it’s our last (in)courage session and all, but this is what came out when I started to tap away on the keyboard. Sometimes the authentic, practical-life applications are what brings the truth home.

Thank you, you “Strong and Graceful Oaks” gals who have allowed me to learn and grow over the past few weeks. The next session begins on February 2 and is open to all who might want to join.  Details will come later!

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