I'm crying like a little baby and whining and pouting and blaming and every other imaginable "ing" you can think of that is negative.
My youngest woke up at 7 am (our usual time is 8:30 or 9) and wouldn't go back to sleep.
My older two girls have been fussing and fighting all day.
My youngest daughter wouldn't finish her lunch, made a mess, and wouldn't stop crying.
My camera needs to be sent in for repair. (anyone that knows me, knows what a blow this is)
The kitchen light burned out while I'm trying to talk on the phone as the macaroni & cheese is burning on the stove and the baby is crying in the background because he's tired and hungry.
I'm wallowing in self-pity and despair. Woe is me.
My brother, who is in (almost) the worst imaginable place calls me. He can tell there's something wrong and immediately tells me that he wishes he could be there to share in my blessings...YES! BLESSINGS!
woah! like a slap across the face...a much needed one at that!
He reminds me what James 1:2-4 says:
"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."
He also reminds me that there are mothers out there that abandon their children when things get tough (he could hear all the chaos in the background and my frustration spilling over into my tone of voice).
He reminds me of the wives that seek after other men for fulfillment, and of the women that seek after worldly things to help ease their pain.
He gently suggests the answer to my heartache...PRAYER!
My brother, who is in (almost) the worst imaginable place never ceases to amaze me in his faith.
...and so I fall to my knees and thank the Lord, not only for all the BLESSINGS He's given me, but for my brother and the wisdom He has come to possess.
