I have a lot to be thankful for and some days I need to sit down and truly think about that. This morning was rough. Really rough. I am a night owl and try as I might I cannot convert to a morning person. I will forever try to do so, but I honestly don’t “wake up” until about 1pm. I need a good 30 minutes with a cup of coffee and my Bible alone in silence to truly start the day off correctly. I rarely have accomplished this because in order to have this time by myself with my God I have to wake up before my children.
Ezra wakes up at 6:30am.
I would need to wake up at 5:30am.
I rarely fall asleep before 11:30pm.
See my problem?
(You’re probably thinking, “That’s still 6 hours of sleep!”. I’m thinking, “That’s only 6 hours of sleep! And it’s 5:30 IN THE MORNING!”)
Anyway, I need my sleep and I need my alone time. Many times, though, sleep wins this battle and I don’t get my cup of coffee with my Bible in silence until the boys go down for their afternoon nap. By that time, it’s about 1pm and I’m beginning to wake up for the day.
On this particular morning, Ezra woke up at 6:15. I nursed him and he was drowsy so I put him back in his crib where he happily rested and chatted for another hour. Instead of getting up for the day, I went back to bed and dozed until Ezra demanded to be picked back up. I got him up, came downstairs, and started on breakfast. For some reason, I was in a short-tempered mood. I started to make strawberry bread for breakfast only to realize we didn’t have enough brown sugar for the recipe. Plus, I need some brown sugar for tomorrow’s muffins. Instantly, I was frustrated. I was trying to think of what I could substitute for tomorrow’s meal so I could use it for today’s. Then, I put baking powder in the dough instead of baking soda. More frustration. Next, I went to add frozen strawberries only to open the freezer and find that we were in fact completely out of anything resembling a strawberry. Ezra was fussing in the next room and Jude was soon going to be up wanting breakfast and my carefully planned meal was failing. I started to cry (because that solves all of my problems, right?) and Tyler came into the room to comfort me. I was so frustrated I hatefully spat out, “Please don’t touch me” as he reached out to pull me in.
I knew the instant those words left my lips that I was in the wrong. I knew I was falling into the temptation to let my frustration turn into anger. I knew I was sinning. I knew it, and yet I said it. My attitude towards him was hateful until he left the house for work.
I went on throughout my morning tasks and completed the “bread” replacing the strawberries with milk. It turned out alright–good enough for Jude and I to eat. I probably wouldn’t offer it to anyone else, but it sufficed the present need.
The whole time I was going about my morning tasks I couldn’t stop thinking about how wrongly I treated my husband. I couldn’t help but feel ashamed that I let something as petty as “ruined” strawberry bread affect the way I treated the man I most respected and loved. I thought back to his actions and words and realized that he treated me with nothing but love. If he wanted to call me out, he didn’t. If he wanted to leave without a kiss and a goodbye, he didn’t. He had every reason to lash out at me, but he didn’t. Instead, he got Jude ready for the day and calmed Ezra down. He was late for work because he selflessly met the needs of our children before leaving. Before he left, he came into the kitchen and kissed me on the forehead. He could have ignored me–and maybe was even tempted to–but he didn’t.
Today I’m incredibly thankful for forgiveness. I’m thankful I married a man who is selfless, loving, and forgiving. I am thankful for the way he loves me when I least deserve it.
Most importantly, though, I am thankful for a God who forgives. I am thankful for a God, who by grace alone, granted me one amazing husband. I am thankful for a God, who through the death of His Son on the Cross, has forgiven my every sin.
I’m going to continue to mess up and I am going to continue to ask my husband and God for forgiveness. And, by the Grace of the Father in Heaven, I am going to continue to be humbled by forgiveness.
“My sin–oh, the bliss of this glorious thought; my sin not in part, but the whole is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more, praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul!”