It's one of those days.
The boys are surly. I'm not sure why, but the unraveling began shortly after sunrise and my high noon we're shot.
There is grumbling.
And as usual, when the boys are frayed like this, I climb right aboard.
And in this house today there's no goodness to be found.
So how do I rise above? How do teach to hearts and minister to souls and direct wayward wills when my own mood moves dark and deep?
I'm standing at the sink when I understand. It falls on my spirit like a strong ray of sun.
The rising above comes from bending low.
I've tried today in my own strength. I've disciplined. I've threatened. I've cajoled. Then I lost my temper and spewed steam.
And we only fell to a darker place.
So I go to my knees, and I ask for filling that is strong and sweet.
Right there by the kitchen sink.
Lord, I can't do this alone. Forgive me for trying. Give me wisdom. Grant me strength. Fill me with Your Spirit, cover me with patience and your rich, sustaining grace.
I go back to the dishes and we go about our day. The boys are still surly, but something in me has changed.
And the difficulties of the day aren't so daunting after all.
It's not the best day, but I can manage this mess.
Rising above means bending low.
Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always. I Chronicles 16:11