On Locking Myself in the Bathroom

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You know how you suddenly realize that between getting milk and juice and diapers and breakfast and toys and refereeing squabbles about the stuffed giraffe and please don’t hit Sissy..WOW! IT’S TEN O’CLOCK…and I just need a minute, guys? And the words coming out just aren’t full of the love and grace they could be…

Don’t leave me alone up here. You know you’ve had those days. Please tell me you have.

It was one such memorable morning that I locked myself in the bathroom, ’cause the 4 year old can open a doorknob, you know. 5 seconds, max, and I hear the pounding little feet coming down the hall.

They try the doorknob; haha and checkmate!

Whispering ensues.

Giggling.

And then I see them: twenty little fingers wiggling under the door.

Lord, help us.

‘Cause I was escaping and regrouping, trying to have a moment to breathe and beg Jesus to make me a kinder mama…

….and they were already over it.

I’m not saying your words don’t matter…they do. Or that we should stop trying to be the best mamas we can be. Reach for excellence!

But at the end of the day, they don’t need a perfect mama. They need a mama who loves Jesus and knows just how much she needs Him.

Even if it’s praying while she’s tickling fingers under the door.

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3 thoughts on “On Locking Myself in the Bathroom

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