Monday, December 6

Monday's Mantra

Read Psalm 91

You know it is going to be a long day when you are woken up by a child wearing a tiger mask and asking you where the scissors are. The sharp ones, specifically. So you pull yourself out of bed and your foot lands directly in a mysterious wet spot. Of course it does. It's Monday after all.

Head to the bathroom to find your one year old playing trucks on the toilet seat and laughing like a crazy person every time one falls in.

8am. Kids: 2. Adults:0.

So I am naturally wondering where my boyfriend, the father of these animals, is hiding. I find him in the kitchen, doing dishes.


OK, so coffee is made, music is pumping through the house and Monday is in full hold-on-to-your-butts mode.

And somewhere between cleaning up broken glass and combing out tangles...

You lose it.

You know the "it" I am talking about. Your temper, your pride, your perspective. Your bearings, your cool, your calm.

Whatever you call "it", I lost mine. I didn't lose it on the outside, but my insides were roaring. I was talking myself into an internal frenzy, "How can this place get so messy right after I cleaned it up!"

"I am the ONLY one around here who gets it." (Still not sure what "it" is in this sentence, but I said it quite a bit for someone who didn't know what she was talking about.)

"This day cannot end soon enough."

It was that last thought that jolted me back to reality. Days. We don't have that many. In fact, according to a recent medical study done by everyone, 100% of us will one day die. It's not so bad. Well, It's not so bad if you live your life, your days, your Mondays, in a way that will leave you feeling like you rung every last drop of joy out of life.

It is possible. It is work, it is a choice, but it is possible.

I know, because about 20 seconds after I let that toxic thought fly threw my cluttered mind I rejected it with a vengeance. I jumped to my feet and started doing something that I should have been doing all morning: I started playing. Laughing. Encouraging. Praising. Kissing. Smooching.

I started loving, instead of surviving.

Can I just say that loving and living is so much more fun that whining and living?

Well it is. And for the record, my kids still messed up my house and my life after I changed my tude. The day was still sprinkled with fits and tears and tantrums.

But they weren't my fits, tears or tantrums.


“Because they love me, says the Lord, I will rescue them; I will protect them, for they acknowledge my name. They will call on me, and I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will deliver them and honor them. With long life I will satisfy them and show them my salvation.” 

Psalm 91: 14 – 16

Written by Joyful Q. as borrowed from her blog, Joy is happily a mother to 3 and married to her boyfriend for 7 years.

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