A Perfect Hot Mess

I’m a yeller.

It’s not something I am proud of yet it is not something I try to hide. I am honest about my shortcomings in the hope that if I tell enough people it will no longer be an issue. Unfortunately though, I am still a yeller.

And sometimes, I lose my cool.

Sometimes my yelling reaches a level that I’m embarrassed by. A level that likely draws the attention of the neighbors. Today was one of those times.

It was lunchtime and we had a great morning. It is a day off school and I managed to get the house clean, laundry started, emails answered and a workout in before noon. I was feeling good about myself and the children were thrilled with still being in their pajamas.

The array of leftovers was spread across the table and I noticed a stray blueberry being pushed between two of my darlings. I hear the arguing ensue, neither claiming the stray blueberry, continuing to point at the other.

Had they not started arguing, I probably would have written the rolling blueberry off to my children being slobs (it’s not far from the truth), but their bickering drew my attention. So I inquire about the rolling berry and suspiciously no one knows who it belongs to.

After several chances, my voice begins to rise and I’m utterly flabbergasted at why, even though I started very casually and calmly, no one would fess up to the errant berry. The whole situation takes a turn for the worst, ending with me yelling and two children in tears.

Not my proudest mommy moment and over a blueberry nonetheless.

Now, I sit here feeling defeated, sure that I’ve scarred my children for life. I sit here wondering why God gifted me these precious children when I’m clearly not cut out for this title of mother. I sit here allowing Satan to feed me these lies, forgetting to give myself much-needed grace.

If God’s grace is sufficient for me, mine should be too.

Far too often I forget to give myself the same grace that God freely gives. I forget that my imperfections are made perfect by my Heavenly Father and that His power is made perfect in my weakness.

Far too often I second guess the plans of our perfect Father. I veer from the path He’s laid and forget that His grace covers me. Always.

I may be a yeller, but I am a yelling child of the King. I am loved, worthy and a perfect hot mess.

So are you. 

One thought on “A Perfect Hot Mess

  1. Amen! You are loved flaws and all. We serve an amazing God May the Lord bless you, my friend. I too was a yeller, some would say a screamer, I hated it and ask th Lord for help. Eventually and gradually, all glory to God, we are getting there

    Like

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