Wednesday morning started as every morning should: as smooth as creamy jif, spread on a piece of warm toast. Yes, it was lovely. Breakfast was done, with the dishes cleaned up. Bread dough was resting on the counter, almost ready to bake. Everyone was dressed without major complications and Emily had completed the best round of math lessons ever.
I whisked my basket of laundry down the stairs to my washer, while my children were playing quietly together, thinking that today may be the day I would claim my rightful title of Super Mom. As I tossed in the clothes and started the machine, the gush of water slowed to a trickle, to a drip or two, to nothing. What?
I took the stairs two at a time, back to the kitchen… I flipped on the faucet …nothing. My precious daughter, from her bedroom said, “Mommy, there’s a man in our front yard doing something.” This is where my morning took a turn for the worse.
I flew back down the stairs and burst out the garage door. And I said in a loud voice, I suppose that could only be described as shrieking, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?”
The gentleman from the water company politely replied, “Turning off your water.”
“WHY?”
He said simply, “No payment.”
With those words, I begged (or possibly commanded) him not to leave. I hurried back up the stairs to our room where I found the water bill, towards the back of the stack. Final due date: yesterday. I grabbed the checkbook, swallowed a huge dose of humble on the way out the front door, hoping he would take my payment and turn the water on before leaving. And thankfully, in spite of my angry demeanor, he took my money and turned on my water.
As I turned to come in, I realized there was no hope of claiming that “Super Mom” title today. I had presented the worst version of myself. Definitely NOT Super Mom type of behavior.
I come from a long line of over reactors. Even my dad and my sister would vouch for me on this point, but its no excuse. My hostile temper broke through my facade, what I think of as the best version of myself – and reared its ugly head. Admittedly, I have a temper. When things go wrong, especially if I’m the cause (like forgetting to pay the water bill) I loose it for this reason : I really want to believe in that best version of me and that it is good enough….
One of our pastors taught us a while back something I will never forget: “You are far worse off than you ever imagined. But far more loved than you’ve ever dreamed.”
With another failure under my belt, I realize just how true this is. No matter how sinful I am, I will probably never understand the depths of my own condition. But He does and He loves me with a promise of forgiveness and a fresh start.
The Best version of me is the forgiven version. Its the one that gets up each morning, claiming His mercies for the day. Survival is living surrounded by the love of my Heavenly Father. And that is life far beyond my wildest dreams.
So, maybe tomorrow… then I’ll be able to present that best version.
Lamentations 3:21-23
This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
daily portion 