Monday, July 13, 2015

yeah, I'm a slow learner


A few weeks ago, we made another dairy run.
(meaning - we drive 2+ hours one way to Clairemore, OK 
to buy delicious raw milk, cream and cheeses)

Cream is only available 2 days a week (Mondays and Thursdays).
They begin selling it at 10am, and it "sells out quickly".
Because I think raw cream from grass fed cows
turns my morning coffee into a delicious super food,
I want to be sure to get the cream.
It'd suck to get there and have them tell me "No cream"
so I like to leave well before 8
to allow for potty stops and such,
and still arrive with plenty of time to spare.
I usually buy the milk and start loading it in the coolers
and leave a kid in line to buy the cream.
Yes. 
There is a cream line
We raw milk people are serious about our cream :-)

This particular Monday,
I had failed to have everyone lay out clothes and shoes the night before.

The shoe choice matters, 
because we also include a trip to the Pryor park 
when the weather is cooperative.

Lexi couldn't find both tennis shoes.
She thought maybe she could wear her fur-lined boots.
Umm. 90ish degreees. No boots.
Sandals were out too;
all of her sandals are high heeled.

I sent kids in to help locate the missing shoe.

No luck.

We went through the 'where did you find the other one? look there. It should be near by.'
"It's gotta be somewhere..." ;-)

Still no shoe.

I was getting very aggravated.
We needed to be leaving!
So I went in to look for the shoe.

And I unearthed a ridiculously huge pile of clothes, toys, and blankets
from under the bed.
(but no shoe)
Can I just confess?
It did not go well.
I ranted.
I hollered.
I was
not
happy,
Parr!

We ended up leaving at 8:10
(she wore the boots)
and I was mad.

I hate leaving on a trip
- of any size -
when I'm angry.

And of course, I hated that I even was so angry.
And that I had behaved badly.
again.
: /

I apologized to the kids
(again)
and I prayed.

Honestly,
it was one of those days that I just wanted to quit.
Sometimes I get really tired of failing at this whole parenting gig.

I turned on the radio
(I switch back and forth between Klove and AirOne when they're in range)
and told God I really needed some songs that would calm my heart.

(Incidentally, with the exception of Sarah McT, nobody but Francesca can do justice to that song!)

I softened a little
but I was still really ticked.
With myself,
and with my irresponsible children.

A song came on that I wan't crazy about, so I switched stations.
Within minutes,
"Holy Spirit" came on again.

and then again
about a half hour later.

~

I've been working my way chronologically through the Old Testament 
this summer.
I tend to hang out in the books I love (James, Ephesians, Colossians...)
and not spend much time in the others.
Last summer, with the exception of Revelations, which I'd read recently
(but wouldn't claim to have any real understanding of)
I read / listened to the entire New Testament
(I must admit, and hope it isn't sacrilegious to say,
I got really tired of Paul for awhile.)

We sang that song in church yesterday,
and I looked up at Tyler and said,
"When God's presence filled the Tabernacle, the Israelites couldn't go in."
Ever since reading it, I was having a hard time reconciling how we could
ask God to fill the atmosphere with Himself
when The People had to leave when God came around.
(I know - dumb. But there you have it....)
He smiled and leaned over,
"Good thing you are the tabernacle."

ahhhh. yes!
A very good thing, indeed.
Thanks, Love, for reminding me.

~

I did finally calm down fully
the 3rd time "Holy Spirit: came on the radio.

And I hope 
to one day
 be so full of God and His presence,
that I don't get angry over stupid things like (horrendously) messy rooms.

Oh, 
and we got the cream.


3 comments:

  1. I'm glad someone else finds Paul grating, too. ;) It sounds awful to say, though, doesn't it?!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Not failing, my friend, just stumbling a bit. We all stumble now and again. Just reaching for the hand to pull you up shows that you are definitely not failing.

    ReplyDelete

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