A glimpse of real

 So, I promised a "real" unedited photo each week (well, we'll try it for a few weeks anyway). This is what "nap time" looks like in my house. Aside from my toddler, who naps in his crib, rest time for the older two is all over the board, usually involving more fighting, constant questioning, and no sleep. And yes, I realize there are no children in this photo. Truth.

Today, I'm tired.  Not just a physical fatigue--although that's there too. No, I'm tired down through my bones into my soul. I'm tired of the grind. Tired of waking up to kids fighting. Tired of the screaming tantrums that go on just because I expect my near-4-year-old to poop regularly. (Aren't I a tyrant). Tired of the hitting. Tired of lists. Tired of the messes, the laundry that reproduces when I glance away, tired of feeling like I'm just wasting my time in this redundant state of being ignored. Tired of disciplining. Tired of feeling like I need it just as bad.  In a word. Tired. I want to take a month-long nap and see what settles in the wake. 

I'm imperfect. I'm not a superhero-mom--not even a mediocre-Green Lantern-kind-of-hero mom. Shocker, I know. Some people look at what I juggle and ask, "How do you do it?" 
"I truly don't know." But not well. I'd do a lot less if I felt like I could. I even start to hyperventilate when I contemplate the expectations of the school year. 

Finishing the last few chapters of Tozer's The Pursuit of God, I settle my heart on meekness. Every day is a dethroning process for me. YOU are. I am not.

 What does it mean to be a human, breaking my pretense that I could be anything other? Do I act human in front of others? Do I feel guilty for being frail?  I shouldn't.  Isn't meekness and brokenness what draws us to the true throne? To the place where we acknowledge, "this is all I have to offer...and it's not enough."  But... YOU are. So, bridge this mighty gap and get me through this world. 

That's all I have for today; I have to referee again.