Getting out the door with twin toddlers is not for the faint of heart, especially on Sundays when I have some hope of getting to church on time. My hard-working husband leaves to serve with the staff at Stonepoint Church before the sun comes up, leaving me to jump through these hoops without reinforcements.
This week, it took all the energy I had to get both boys up, changed, dressed, fed, down for naps, re-changed, and and re-dressed after a diaper explosion. I finally got them into their car seats, taken back out of their car seats, then miraculously got all 46 pounds of wiggling toddler inside the building with the correct name tag on, and delivered to their correct Sunday School classroom. I managed to collapse into a chair towards the back of the sanctuary, marginally on time, but totally wiped out. Motherhood has changed my definition of what being “on time” for worship is. In my opinion, if you have kids under five, getting there before the sermon starts, constitutes being on time.
I was tired. Worn out. As much as I craved the opportunity to worship and fellowship with other believers, I realized that it felt like I hadn’t been alone since worship the previous Sunday. I almost wondered if a power nap in my car would be a better use of my time. I couldn’t help but think, “I am so tired, what could I possibly bring to the creator of the universe whom I owe everything?” As I was engulfed by music and allowed my heart to turn towards worship, I remembered standing in the same spot not all that long ago, with a very different prayer. That version of myself was well-rested, had a shiny new pedicure, and had more stylish clothing on (likely, without any smashed banana on them). In those moments I remember crying out, praying for a future for our family that included healthy children. I was rested, but knew that God had something very different in store for me. I prayed then for the children I have now. Little boys who smile at me, cling to me, and hold my cheeks as they give me kisses. The same little boys who snuggle each other, sweetly call out for “Mama” in their sleep, who also dunked my hairbrush in the toilet this week.
As much energy as my life requires, I wouldn’t trade a second of it for any amount of rest or disposable income in the world. How amazing to serve a God who provides us with such irreplaceable blessings and gives us just enough energy to get through the day. I’m so grateful to the God who has given me these blessings, He has been so faithful to me. I know there are many tired mamas with priceless blessings, offering this same tired praise. I hope today brings you just a few moments to stop and be grateful… and maybe enough time for a quick nap.
Dear Father, please accept this tired praise. I remember a time where I was well-rested and praying for these blessings that are currently wearing me out. I am tired, but so, SO thankful.