if it doesn't break your heart...

Since my husband left on Sunday for a week of training, I've been having quite a week managing the kids on my own. It's startling to me how much clarity I can lack, how inaccurately I can view my own life. The basics are these: It's me, a 3-year-old, a 1-year-old, and a 4-month-old. They're tiny people learning how to manage their emotions, desires, fruit snacks and orange juice at the same time. I'm an imperfect woman with limits on my patience, only two hands, and a terrible head cold. Push comes to shove, and how I try - I cling - I dig out just a little more love, a soft response, a smile rather than flashing, angry eyes.

But I refuse to utter these words into reality. Instead, I trod from room to room collecting wrappers and dirty socks, telling myself that I am failing at this. Motherhood - I'm failing at it. If I were a better person, a better Christian, this situation would be a pleasant boat ride on a placid sea. I am causing a storm. I am a failure.

Yesterday I received a phone call from my sweet friend from church. Could she come over and hang out for a bit? Help me get the boys ready to go to Wednesday evening church? I quickly agreed, even though my brain was screaming not to. (I have a hard time accepting help. It means I'm not perfect.) Also, I've secretly convinced myself that this is the bed I made and so must lay in it. I chose to have "all these" children and in the same turn disqualified myself from any type of assistance. This was only reinforced when someone close to me observed when I had only my first two, "You're barely holding it together."

The lies, they're an ugly merry-go-round in my head.

At the fellowship meal before classes tonight, I thought I was going to explode. The 1-year-old was squirming and screaming and running away from me and the 3-year-old wanted nothing to do with his dinner. People kept appearing at my elbow: Did I need a drink? Could they hold the baby? Here, they'd follow Eli around... I said 'no, no' and finally caved. Sweet tea, please. Sure, hold him- isn't he sweet? I hope you have tennis shoes on because that kid can run. In the bathroom (alone! Silence!) I suppressed the burning at the back of my eyes, the pressing urge to cry.

Finally, an hour later with the baby cuddled on my lap and a Bible opened on the desk in front of me, the burning cooled and seeped away from me. I breathed. And the stomach ache I've had since my husband boarded the airplane on Sunday morning, was gone.

---

At the end of the fellowship meal, I'd found myself talking hurriedly to my friend about some of my insecurities regarding homeschooling. How can I homeschool them if I can barely hold it together for a week?, I said emptily. My deepest feelings started tumbling uncontrollably out of my mouth. She interrupted me softly: "You're doing a good job, Lenae. You're doing a good job."

---

It is humbling and overwhelming to grasp in a small way how much our Father loves us when we allow ourselves to be loved by others. I come empty-handed to His throne, but my arms are locked with His other sons and daughters. And I know, looking down the line at all of their faces, that I can keep going. Keep striving. Keep loving.

"If it doesn't break your heart, it isn't love
If it doesn't break your heart, it's not enough
It's when you're breaking down with your insides coming out
That's when you find out what your heart is made up of."
-Yet, Switchfoot