A four letter word.

I'm trying for the sixth time to lock the well worn entry door.  Already frustrated with how the last half hour has gone.  I now have pretzels covering my living room floor.  Both boys have decided that clothes are pointless and battle to get them on.  Not sure why I fight them since if we ever get out the door they'll be wet in our friends small pool anyway.  My small man is trying to help, stubbing his toe in the process.  Would have had less tears if I had just done it myself...Will this door ever lock?  What is this a dozen tries now?  The boys are who knows where.  I'm hoping in our yard and still dry.  I slam the door and begin trying again.  I know my anger isn't going to help things go any faster.  20 tries, and that's when it happens.  The four letter word slips through these "godly" lips of mine.  Quietly said, so only God and I hear.  Words of the past.  Guilt rushes over me.  What kind of Christian would let that come out?  What kind of Christian would even think such things?  I've been a believer for what almost 20 years, maybe even more.  I've graduated from Bible school and am a former missionary.  I'm married to the Youth Director at church.  Just as quietly as before I pray that the Lord will show me the Joy in all of this...I give up, the door will remain unlocked.

In the car I ask the boys not to talk to me.  It easier that way, less frustration for both Momma and the little boy who is soft spoken.  They can look out the window and listen to the music.  I contemplate my filthy mouth.  Wasn't I just writing about how God loves me with all the trash that I'm full of?  Yes, I was.  It's still true 24 hours later.  Who was offended in that outburst anyway?  It was just me and God.  Did I offend God with my harsh words?  Is He really that small?  No, He's not.  He doesn't care about words.  He cares about my heart, my soul.  I am a broken person doing all that I can to love Him more and more each day.  I fight to give Him thanks even though my broken mind says all is hopeless.  I don't think He's the least bit offended at my words.  He wants me to be my raw self with Him.  He wants me to let Him into my deepest, dirtiest places.  He wants to clean with love and grace.  Isn't that His way?  He didn't destroy the people He created, He sent His son to take the punishment for them.  To show His love and grace.

Where's the joy?  The joy is having a Friend that isn't easily offended.  The joy is having a Friend that gives me a big hug of love and grace when I'm having a hard few minutes. As we drive I find more of His strength.  Not the strength He gives to me, but the strength of His never ending love. 

My man of the woods and I at the same moment notice a turtle on the side of the road.  I try to pull over, but there's to much traffic.  Thank you Lord for the turtle.  A rough morning melts away as we chat about that small animal.  I find a morning full of excitement and wonder at God's creation.

A lesson learned from a worn out lock.  A love better understood.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

~ John 3:16

The LORD your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior.  He will exult over you with joy.  He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy.

~ Zephaniah 3:17

581.  Friend, more like a sister, who calls to say I love you.
582.  A sticky lock to teach me.
583.  A Love I've barely begun to understand.
584.  A turtle to bring excitement.
585.  A turtle to help me find the joy.
586.  Reconnecting with friends.
587.  A gift of a tank top.
588.  One year old arms wrapped around my neck.
589.  Three year old in tears learning to grow.
590.  The mention of bubbles brings uncontainable joy to the littles.
591.  Bubbles carelessly floating on the wind.
592.  Boys trying with all there might to catch a bubble.
593.  Beef stew and relaxed evening with friends.
594.  Strong man who gives me the night off of the bed time ritual.