Today’s post starts with a prayer, which is ironic, given it was the absence of prayer that brought about this post. My prayer as I write is that He will be glorified in this flawed human’s account.

My baby has RSV. This may not sound too bad to some, but I have seen what it can do in one of our other kiddos. I’ll stick a pin in that and maybe another day share what that looks like, even now. For now, our five month old is struggling with it. I am on high alert constantly, suctioning his nose, monitoring his fever, doing everything I know to do to help him breath and ease his constant cough.

Our three year old is also not feeling well. She has a cough and really just wants to rest. Our toddler is not enjoying this energy (or lack of) in our house. She is used to a faster pace, and a sister to play, and a mommy who is more interactive and playful. Normally when she gets in an ornery mood, we switch up the activity. We go outside or go somewhere. Right now that just isn’t possible, and she has instituted a reign of terror to let us know how she feels. She is hitting, hair pulling, screaming, throwing things. It’s awful. At one point, I was nursing Keegan to put him down for a nap and Amelia went to her room to escape angry toddler and Eva followed her and started beating on the shut door, screaming.

Y’all it was awful.

I had my phone near me and I almost texted my mother-in-love for help, I almost prayed, I almost lots of things. Instead, I crafted a funny way of sharing the moment on facebook, and posted it. Sat there for a few minutes and deleted it. And then in a passive aggressive moment of righteous indignation with myself, I also deleted the facebook app. Because I’m very self aware and also holy.

Just kidding. I’m stupid.

I long for connection with people, but I have created this online fantasy life that is annoying. It is the double edge of the social media sword. See, I’m not a social person. More than likely you wouldn’t notice me, unless by some miracle you know me well. But facebook has given me the opportunity to show that I do have a personality in a context that I am comfortable with, unfortunately I am a people pleaser who subscribes to sharing only the shiny moments. I like those “likes”. And I dislike the paltry number of likes that a Debbie Downer post gets. My facebook life is tinsel y’all, it’s shiny and appealing, but ultimately lacking substance.

Don’t get me wrong. I do love sharing moments that make us all giggle and I love seeing those moments, too.  Blah blah blah I think this could turn into a post for another day, and it’s not the point of today.

Basically, I’m saying I was acting like a stupid island, stewing in an ocean of ugly thoughts without reaching out in a real way. And even when I pulled my phone out again to text my mom-in-love I couldn’t because of pride. So then I started to pray, but Eva’s tantrum was so loud and my baby couldn’t breath and…I was too angry.

My phone rang.

It was Cindy (my mom-in-love).

Nope. Can’t answer. This moment is too sucky.

She left a voicemail. We don’t leave voicemails.

When Keegan was breathing better I laid him down for a nap.

Then I listened to that voicemail. She was calling to see how we were doing, how Keegan was feeling, and wondered if the big boys could stay the night at their house.

She was leaning in. She was answering a prayer my heart had been to hard to pray, she was answering a text I was too proud to send.

She changed how these next moments could have gone. I might have gone in a towering anger and yelled at the toddler. Heck, I might have spanked her (which is something I very rarely do because often, if I am at a point of thinking I should spank my child, then I absolutely have no business giving a spanking.)

Instead, I went to the screaming toddler who was throwing the Leap Pad at the door her sister had shut, I lifted her and carried her to my room and just hugged her till she stopped screaming and tears were streaming down my face. Finally she accepted and reciprocated my hug. Then Amelia came in and joined in the hug. We sat there for several minutes and then I called my mom-in-love and reluctantly shared what life looked like at that moment. And she offered to be His hands and feet.

I am thankful to fully known and fully loved, in all moments.



One thought on “Unshiny

  1. Amber, that was touching. I’m so glad Cindy is here and while I rejoice in that, I’m sad that I can’t do that for Magan. Mothering is hard sometimes.

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