Today was (as of 10:37 am) rough. Ross took the day off and after what I made into a ridiculously stressful morning, we said bye to the grandparents and the babe as they made their way to the zoo. I crawled back into bed as R prepared to go mountain bike. He took one look at melodramatic wife and asked what was wrong. He sweetly wiped a tear from my eye as I told him that I felt a pity party of epic proportions coming on and he should probably bolt. After racing to the door, he (intelligently) walked back in and braced himself for the onslaught. Many incoherant thoughts spewed, much whining ensued. And then...then, the nitty gritty.
In between blubbering sobs, I tried to explain what the worst part of this whole situation is. "I am more introverted than I realized," I said. "Having people live in our small home with us is hard." Okay, true. On both accounts. But feeling like some big truth was about to reveal itself, I kept going. "I miss our life. I wanted to do things with MK before the baby comes." He nods, affirming and validating
I have been angry and impatient, unforgiving and unyielding. I have so boldly and selfishly gotten annoyed at the littlest offenses of my new housemates. Yes, I have moments where gratitude overflows in my heart. But sadly, I admit that there are more moments of quiet criticism. I have justified and rationalized every judgement I've made. I have projected my overall pissed-offness at bedrest onto people here who love us.
Spending 99% of my time in these small walls has been like walking around with a gigantic mirror, reflecting back my sin. I have been impatient, slow to give grace, quick to judge and an overall ogre. I shook in tears today at the realization of the vile human I have been, and to people who would throw themselves in front of a bus for my child, people who have dropped their entire lives to come care for the ogre and her toddler-monster baby. Gross. Just gross.
I sat with this realization for a little bit, let the tears of anger at myself and utter remorse flow. And then my husband said that word. GRACE. "His grace covers all of this." There was a difficult time in my life when I could not sit with my sin without thinking that there was no hope, no grace, not for me. During the day, I could interview a child abuser and find a small place of understanding and compassion. But I never believed that this grace stuff covered me too. In one particularly dark day, my friend Chrissie enlightened me by saying that if I didn't think God could forgive MY sins, I didn't believe the nails in Jesus' hands were enough.
Something about that imagery changed my heart. Visualizing the nails, I began to believe that yes, those were for me too. Many years ago, a morning like today would have sent me into days or weeks of dark depression. Today, I sat with the sin. I listened to that Godly husband and trusted His words. I've got plenty of time left on bedrest to grab hold of Jesus' hand and walk a better path, a kinder, gentler, more patient path. With a quiet house now, there are a few tears left, but these are of gratitude. Those nails and that grace let me start anew today and tomorrow and Sunday.
Being forced into a situation where my sin is right in front of my face every minute of the day is waaay not fun. But I don't think it's an accident either.