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I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. No amount of exercise has helped me; it has just made my physical exhaustion match my emotional exhaustion. Quite honestly I’ve felt used, overwhelmed, and ready to toss up the white flag. For the first time in a long time I honestly fantasized about what life would be like if THIS wasn’t my life.

Selfish, right? I have three great kids and a great husband. I have more time for my career, and I have volunteer work that fulfills me. And here I am throwing myself a pity party. While I respect that it is heavily related to hormonal imbalance, that doesn’t help me feel better about it.

After a massage and a solo lunch, I turned to the only thing that can usually pull me through these little bouts of depression: my Bible. I asked God for conviction rather than guilt, and I found myself knee-deep in Colossians 3.

The most commonly quoted verses in this chapter instruct us to “do all things as if working for the Lord.” I guess that makes sense, but honestly, when I’m exhausted that just doesn’t help me. I’ve never found sweeping my floor to be any form of worship and no matter how many hymns I sing, I’ve never felt any more connected with God after sweeping than before.

What really stuck out to me were verses 12-15 where we are told to be clothed in love at all times. We are to be even-tempered and quick to forgive. A family is to be in-tune with each other rather than everyone doing their own thing.

With three energetic kids, homework, school, my work, my volunteering, my husband’s job, his travel, and family obligations, we are often going in different directions. Even when we are in the same room, our minds are often elsewhere. We’re often too busy to clothe ourselves in love. And when a tense, hormonal, strong-willed woman tries to stay even-tempered, you can bet there will eventually be an eruption.

That’s where I found myself on Sunday… on the verge of an eruption. My house was a wreck (again), the kids had emptied their toy boxes into a huge pile of mess, I was behind on laundry, my youngest at reopened his toe injury, my backyard was a flooded mess, and I was about ready to bite someone’s head off. Love was the last thing on my mind.

Colossians reminded me that my job is not to nag, but to direct my kids with love. Honestly, I don’t always feel like it. Sometimes I want to be the selfish one for awhile, and that’s okay. It’s okay to take a break, get a massage, and recoup. It’s okay to punch the heavy bag, scream into my pillow, or cry in the shower. It’s okay to “get it out” so I can regain my sanity and move forward. As long as I pick myself back up, reclothe myself in love, and move forward… it’s all okay.

I’m not called to be perfect. I’m called to be real, and to show my kids how “real” and “love” can work together.

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