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I feel gross. I still haven’t figured out how to tame my coarse, curly-ish hair in 33 years, and now it’s flecked with gray. My gums ache because I went to the dentist and I don’t floss enough.
I tried to sit down and write this afternoon, blessed with a few solitary and quiet minutes, and the words wouldn’t come. I feel like I have much to write until I sit down, intimidated by the keyboard before me. No wonder every blogger has a book coming out except me.
My kids don’t even attempt to eat dinner for the second night in a row. I’m not sure how that’s possible when they didn’t eat lunch either, preferring to put on a sideshow in Applebee’s for my sister, her coworkers, and everyone else within a mile radius.
Lest you think I am exaggerating about Joshua’s antics, tonight after sitting on his little potty, Joshy stuck his finger in the big potty and then directly into his mouth.
I laid on the floor and felt like the worst mom ever. The worst person. Nothing.
Tonight I need to tell myself something true instead of the negative thoughts that want to fill my brain, saturating me with lies and anger.
Here is the truth: I am in no way the worst mom in the world. They will eat when they’re hungry. No one is judging me based on my hair, and if they are I feel sorry they don’t have better things to worry about. I am a writer, and God will guide my words at the right time for His purpose.
God says I am His treasure, the one He paid a great price for. And that is the truth – not whatever I happen to think about myself today.
Thank You, Lord.