Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Before and After (05/14/09)
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TITLE: A Peek Into God's Mercy for Mothers | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mia DeBruyne
05/19/09 -
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“How glorious is this, oh Lord, you made me this way, and, you love me always. Thank you for my children. For Billy, the oldest, bless his strong leadership abilities and use them for your glory. Thank you for Mary, the middle child, bless her sensitive nature and teach her to love others, as well as herself. For Charlie, the baby, who is already 3 years old. Oh Lord, help us through this day together. Bless his sense of humor and boundless energy, and, if it’s in your will, oh Lord, please give me a matching supply. Let us begin our day.” I prayed.
I stepped outside the bathroom to find in the kitchen that Billy had taken advantage of Mom’s prayer time once again. The full box of sugar cereal had become his breakfast while Charlie had eaten an entire half pound of cheddar cheese. “Well, thank you Lord for independent children, but, where is the middle one?”
“Mary, what’s wrong?” I ask, as I open her bedroom door and find her weeping, still in her pajamas.
“I need to wear white today.” She says.
“We don’t have any of your white clothes clean, let’s just wear this today.” I reply, as I hand her a pair of blue jeans and a pink t-shirt.
“I need white,“ she says so softly, I can barely hear her. “I am supposed to be a baa, baa black sheep in the play at school today.” She says.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask.
“I was too embarrassed to tell you.” She says.
We sift through all her clothes, I look in the dirty laundry, there is nothing appropriate for baa, baa black sheep to wear. “It looks like you’re going to need to be a grey sheep. You’ll be special.” I tell her.
“Since when are baa, baa black sheep white anyhow.” I think to myself.
“No, I need to be white.” Mary tells me.
Out of the basement, in a bin stored away, we find a stained white t-shirt. “Will this work?” I ask as I stuff the shirt into her backpack. “ONLY, wear this for the play.” I inform her.
“Lord, forgive me for my pride.” I pray, and off we go to the minivan, late again.
“Charlie! You need to get in your car chair. Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way today?” I ask.
“The hard way, Mama!” Says Charlie, with glee.
“Oh Lord, this one just should not be mine. Where did he come from anyhow?” I silently ask the Lord as I snatch that little body and push his bottom down into that car chair once again. A bit of glee crosses my heart too, as I buckle that strap, knowing he’s not going anywhere for awhile. “Forgive me Lord, I’m not perfect.” I pray.
Of course Charlie resists, thrashing about and screaming “My car! My car! My car!” He wants me to pick up the dozen little matchbox cars he had pressed against his little chest which were either thrown, or dropped, while he chose the “hard way” yet another time.
Fifteen more hours of much of the same pass by, and after its all done, I’m locked in the bathroom again. “Here I am, all alone with you Lord. I am so glad to know you never sleep, and will never call me tardy. Thank you Lord for this day, cover over my mistakes with your mercy, forgive me for my sins, and help me to have a good night sleep. Amen.”
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