Tag - love

An Unfinished Testimony to Share

February 11, 2016

The other day I was brainstorming ideas for things I could write about and coming up with a mental list of potential blog posts. There are several personal stories that I’d like to tell, but they haven’t yet come together enough beyond a sentence or a few thoughts here and there.

One of those is sharing about my sister, whom my family adopted when I was just out of high school and she herself was married with two children. As I was thinking about it, I knew that that story wasn’t quite ready to be told yet, and part of that reason is because Jodi’s testimony about God bringing family and restoration to her life is a long one, and it’s still being written.

And that’s the thought that gave me pause.

Because if any of us have a true testimony of God in our life, it’s still being written. It’s a continuous story of the work He’s doing in us day by day.

Growing up in church, it always seemed as though when someone was asked to share their “testimony,” it was more about when they started following God, and usually it would be one of three stories:

1 – The Horrible Sinner with the Horrible Past: These were about how a person had once lived in complete Godless darkness, practicing every kind of evil imaginable (usually including drugs, alcohol, promiscuity, and the other “big” sins), until someone shared God’s love with them, and the person made a decision to repent and follow Jesus. They were always tremendous examples of God’s amazing grace and His power to make someone brand new.

2 – The Prodigal who Returns Home: A person sharing this “testimony” had usually grown up in church, had a foundation of faith, maybe followed God or perhaps just pretended, but as they got older, they left the church and any relationship with God. Their return to the Lord reminds us of His unfailing love and forgiveness and how He longs to restore everyone to Him.

3 – The Lifelong Christian: This is another person who most likely grew up in a Christian home, going to church, and they began serving God when they were young and have remained faithful since, never really doing “bad” things. This was me. And when I was younger, for myself and others like me, this “testimony” sometimes felt as though it wasn’t really a testimony. There were no dramatic moments, no brushes with death or danger, nothing flashy.

However, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to the conclusion that this kind of story is just as powerful as any other, sometimes more so, because God saved me from even experiencing all the bad things. A relationship like this points us to God’s faithfulness, His Spirit’s empowering us to fight temptation and stand strong, and His still small Voice guiding us on the right path when we follow closely. (This is not to say that we’ve never sinned or failed. We need forgiven just as much as anyone. Our story is that we’ve continued to pursue our relationship with God through everything, and He has never let us down.)

BUT HERE’S THE THING: No matter which way your relationship with God began – rescued from a nasty past, returning to your first love, remaining faithful to the Lord – that’s not your testimony, at least not all of it. It’s just the beginning of it.

It’s like getting married.

Your love story with your spouse isn’t just about the wedding …at least I hope not. That’s just the starting point, the “Once Upon a Time” opener.

The best part of the story is the relationship and building a life together toward “happily ever after”: all of the struggles and triumphs, the growth and change, the fighting and making up.

If someone asked me about my husband, I’d probably say, “Brad is such as sweet husband and good daddy. The other day he…” And I’d tell them about how he helped me around the house or had the boys giggling at his goofiness.

If all I had to share about my husband was from when we first met or our wedding, which was nearly 10 years ago, people would wonder about our relationship. They would wonder if we even had one.

A testimony isn’t “that one time that God did something for me,” and it’s not a list of all the bad stuff you did that God has forgiven, or just about when you got saved, or even when God healed you or provided miraculously for your family’s need.

All of those things are part of it, but your testimony should be growing. It’s more a list of all that God has done and is doing in your life because He is good and loving and forgiving. The longer you’ve served Him, the longer that list will be.

But no matter how long that list gets, you’ll still have an unfinished testimony to share. We all do.

Philippians 1:6 – “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

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Why I Capture Our “Everyday”

February 4, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Why I Capture Our "Everyday" - Getting pictures of my boys as they play and do ordinary, everyday things allows me to save and savor the moments and hold onto the story of their childhood.

Last week Elijah stayed home from school a couple days because of an ear infection, and I was given an opportunity to do something that I haven’t done nearly enough in recent months. Not only did I get to snuggle a little more with my big boy, but I also got to grab my camera and capture some moments of my two boys just being together.

I love adorable pictures of them dressed handsomely and smiling happily, but those perfectly posed shots rarely tell as much of a story as a simple picture of my children playing on the living room floor.

There is something so precious to my mommy heart about a candid moment between my two little guys as they build a tower or “race” their cars along the lines of the area rug.

It’s grabbing a piece of my “every day” and saving and savoring it.

Most days, by the time Elijah is home from school, I’m working on dinner, finishing up laundry, or some other housekeeping task while the boys are playing, so I usually miss out on just watching them and seeing how they interact (although I can always hear the giggles and little arguments). It’s not often that I get to sit and witness these seconds of their growing up together.

So one day last week, I was able to get belly-down to the floor and listen as Elijah, a typical older brother, directed Josiah on how they were playing with their castle, knights, blocks, and the random character toys they’d pulled from the toy box. I watched Josiah grin in awe and admiration of Elijah’s stair-buildings skills. And even though I didn’t take a picture of it, I saw Elijah’s frustration when Josiah accidentally knocked over parts of that stairway and his patience as they worked to build it back up.

: Building a stairway to the king.

: Pegasus is going up.

Sure I could have spent less time on the floor, just snatched up my phone, and taken a couple of shots, but that’s not what I wanted. Phone shots are almost always more for everybody else, for quickly sharing something, or in a pinch, catching a moment when my real camera isn’t nearby.

Of course, some people only think of taking out a “real” camera for special events – birthdays, weddings, trips to the zoo.

I like my camera for pictures from those things, too, but what I treasure are the pictures of my boys in the seemingly mundane, ordinariness of something they do every day.

Because it’s simply them being them. (And I LOVE them)

Playing together.

Photographs like this require me to slow down a bit and really pay attention to everything going into the picture.

These moments aren’t meant to be “just point, shoot, and post.” It’s about recording the story for them and for me.

Through my camera lens, I get to hold onto to this time when they imagine silly scenarios and create fantastic worlds together. Even though they seem so little now, I know it won’t be long before they are grown.

I want to take every chance that I can to treasure each day with these precious gifts from God, to notice the details of their average day, and capture the moments of their childhood while they are still children.

Of course, once I’ve gotten some pictures, I put my camera down and join their playing.

I don’t just want to capture their memories. I want to be a rather big part of them, too.

If you’d like to get better photos of your family, you can read my 4-part series, How to Take Better Pictures of Your Kids.

Pausing to Be Grateful

January 28, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Pausing to Be Grateful. My recent participation in an Instagram photo challenge reminded me of the importance of daily counting my blessings and being thankful.

This post contains an affiliate link for the book. At no additional cost to you, I may receive a small commission if you use the link.

Over the last couple weeks, as part of the Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World launch team, I have been participating in an Instagram Daily Photo Challenge with the theme of “What are you grateful for?”

The challenge was inspired by the Gratitude Bracelet we received from the book’s author, Kristen Welch (We are THAT Family). The bracelet is made by women at the Mercy House, the maternity home in Kenya that Kristen founded. (For more on Mercy House, check out this short video.)

It’s a white-bead bracelet with three copper beads. Each copper bead is for a different question that will remind you to be grateful every day.

Who do I appreciate today?
Today, what made me smile?
How was God good today?

WHO DO I APPRECIATE TODAY?

So, for the first five days, the challenge was to share “a different person each day who you appreciate.” I’m pretty sure this was the easiest one for all of us. There were pictures of everyone’s husbands, children, best friends, parents, pastors, and so on. However, even though we generally KNOW that we’re thankful for our families and friends, it’s something else entirely to pause in our day and really think about why we are so thankful for them and to truly take time to appreciate them. I could probably have filled all two weeks of the photo challenge on this question alone.

TODAY, WHAT MADE YOU SMILE?

The next five days, though, were devoted to “something that made you smile.”

To quote Buddy the Elf, “I like smiling. Smiling’s my favorite.”

I’m usually a “pretty positive, find the silver-lining, there’s always something to be thankful for, let’s play the Glad game with Pollyanna” kind of girl. Even when I have those tough days in motherhood, I don’t stay in the yucky too long. I’ll soon be looking for the good, the giggles, and the grins.

Therefore, Question Two was, again, another easy way to count my blessings.

This made me smile today…a lot! Elijah has his 2nd loose tooth, and he was trying to pull it before bed. It's not quite as ready as he is, though, so no #toothfairy tonight. #raisinggratefulkids #PhotoChallenge #mademesmiletoday #wigglytooth

A photo posted by Kishona Lape (@lifeinlapehaven) on Jan 16, 2016 at 7:20pm PST

HOW WAS GOD GOOD TODAY?

Then we got to the five days of God’s goodness, and I was stumped.

It was not because God hasn’t been good, but rather because He is SO good that it was hard to narrow it down.

After some pondering, my first photo of “How God was good today,” I took a picture of the Bible I’ve had since 10th grade, opened to a scripture that I’d circled at some point during my youth group years: Psalm 71:17 & 18: “O God, You have taught me from my youth; and to this day I declare Your wondrous works. Now also when I am old and grayheaded, O God, do not forsake me, until I declare Your strength to this generation, Your power to everyone who is come.”

Having followed God since early childhood, my life has been full of God proving His goodness and faithfulness to me over and over again.

Loving me, saving me, knowing me, keeping me. That kind of goodness is hard to capture in one little Instagram picture. It would be hard to capture with a million.

The rest of my photos for the challenge were maybe less serious, but they still celebrated God’s goodness with joy:

A side-by-side of a cherry pie bar dessert I made and one of Josiah’s recent selfies. Elijah’s to-do list for Sunday. A glimpse into my preschool Sunday school class. Homemade chicken and dumplings. My Mercy House gratitude bracelet.

: I just couldn’t pick between the two very different ways God was good.

: Elijah’s list says, “Go to church, get my Bible, go and learn.”

While the challenge was for fun and to help promote gratefulness and Kristen’s new book, it also served its most meaningful purpose when it reminded me of how important it is to stop in the busyness of every day and appreciate each little detail and blessing that God has placed in our lives and His wonderful lovingkindness, mercy, and goodness in doing so.

Let me challenge you today to pause, take a minute, and think about what you would share: five people you appreciate, five things that make you smile, and five ways that God has been good to you.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with Whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.” ~ James 1:17

How has God been good to you this week?

If you’d like, you can purchase your own gratitude bracelet from Mercy House, and you’ll be supporting young mothers and their children. That’s one more thing to be thankful for. 🙂

—

If you haven’t yet entered the giveaway to win a copy of Kristen Welch’s newest book,

Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World,

ENTER TODAY!

Giveaway is open until Friday, January 29, at 11:59p.m. US residents only.

See giveaway terms for more details.

Going on a Date with My 5-year-old

January 18, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Going on a Date with My 5-year-old. I didn't realize how important some Mommy and me time was to my son until I scheduled a date night for us to spend some time together, one-on-one. His excitement proved that it was something very special to him.

When Elijah brought home the flyer for a “Me and My Gal” night at his school, I admit – at first I dismissed it as something I didn’t particularly want to do. I doubted that he even paid any attention to the note about a glow-in-the-dark themed dance/game night for the boys at his school to bring their “favorite girl” (mom, grandma, aunt) to, and that was fine with me.

However, I didn’t throw the note away.

The next day while I was cleaning the kitchen, I looked at the note again, and I felt as though God wanted me to ask Elijah about. In my heart, I immediately knew that this would be important to him and important to my relationship with him.

That day he came home and mentioned the “glow party,” saying that he wanted to go.

The more I talked to him about it, though, I realized the main reason he wanted to go: he wanted to be with me.

Then as I thought about that, I decided that we had another option in addition to “go to the party” or “don’t go.”

So, I gave Elijah a choice: we could go to the school event (where it would be somewhat awkward for us because we didn’t know anyone else going, where it would be a later night than he was used to, and where we wouldn’t be as free to just be us with all the dancing and games planned), or we could go on a “Mommy-Elijah date” where he got to plan what we did and where we went.

Elijah proved my theory of “just wanting to be with Mommy” correct. Without hesitation or second thoughts, he chose to do a date night, just us.

He also immediately suggested that we should go to the Japanese steakhouse for our date.

If only.

After explaining that not even Daddy usually got to take me there on a date, we discussed a more appropriate budget, and he made his second suggestion: going to get frozen yogurt. (We would have let him pick something a little more expensive, but that was what he wanted).

Then he proved that even though he’s only 5-years-old, he knows the way to a girl’s heart.

He said, “Then we can go to Hobby Lobby, if you want, Mommy. “

IF I want to go to Hobby Lobby? Hahaha.

Frozen yogurt and Hobby Lobby? Sounded like a great idea to me.

For the next couple of weeks, his world only existed on time that was measured by when our date night was. He counted down the days, he told everyone about “getting to take Mommy on a date,” he wrote about it in his journal at school, and he reminded me every day that we had a special night coming up.

At one point, I thought I might have another thing on the night we had picked, and he was nearly in tears until I realized it was a week later.

I honestly never thought he would latch onto this idea as firmly as he did or that time with Mommy was something he was missing so much.

I probably should have. I mean, I’ve often thought about how we definitely want to do that as the boys get older. But I should have known he needed that to start now.

He’s still adjusting to being in school all day after having spent pretty much all day, every day with me since he was born. His time when he gets home is spent playing with his brother, eating dinner, reading his homework book, and getting ready for bed. There hasn’t been much Elijah-Mommy time, and definitely not as much as he was used to before school.

The day of our date I don’t know how his teacher got him to focus on his work at all. He was bouncing from the moment he got out of bed in the morning until, and especially when, I picked him up in the afternoon. He told his teacher where we were going, probably for the fiftieth time that week, bless her heart.

And then we were off…well, after we dropped Josiah off at his “date with Grandma.”

En route to the frozen yogurt place, Elijah told me that “tonight is going to be amazing.”

He was so desperate for time with me that yogurt, Hobby Lobby, and a stop into Target for something we needed at the house was “amazing” to him.

Clearly, we need to spend more one-on-one time together.

However, it was a delightful evening. We tasted different flavors of yogurt, then filled our cups with our favorites and topped them with a few items from the multitude of offerings, including berries, waffle cone pieces, and whipped cream. Elijah added a gummy frog to his because his teacher said that’s what she liked from that yogurt place. (You know, during one of the many conversations he had with her about his date with Mommy.)

While we ate, he talked about his day, much like he would any other day. There were no deep discussions, no major life advice shared with him. Just us being together. And it was wonderful.

He brought money with him for Hobby Lobby…$1.25…so he could buy something…for himself (Some date.) He was thrilled when we found a stamp with the letter “E” in the clearance items for only $0.75. We were able to get him a child-friendly ink pad for only about $1 or so (using their weekly 40% off coupon) – Mommy’s treat.

After we’d wandered through the wonderland of Hobby Lobby long enough, we headed to Target. When we were checking out, he whispered to me that he was going to ask the cashier for two stickers, one for him and one for me, “since we are on a date.”

I’m not sure if the cashier heard him or not, but seconds later, she actually offered him a sticker before he could ask.

“Can I have two? I’m on a date with my Mommy, “ he told her.

Of course, the lady smiled and happily gave us two special stickers. Elijah just beamed.

I’m not sure if the night lived up to Elijah’s “amazing” expectations, but I know he was a very happy boy.

Something that to me was so simple and that started with something that I almost completely ignored meant the world to him.

So much so that the next morning, he was still glowing and measuring time by our date.

He climbed into bed, gave me a hug, and said, “It’s the day after our date, Mommy.”

I asked him then and there if he’d go out with me again.

Do you have special date nights or times with each of your children?

Earlier this year I shared my thoughts on Elijah’s first day of school in the post, Embracing the Moments of “Mommy Sadness.”

Having a Second Child: the amazing multiplication of love

January 11, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Having a Second Child - the amazing multiplication of love. When we found out I was pregnant with our second baby, it was just as wonderful and exciting as the first time. But it was different. Were we ready to face life with a newborn again? Could we love this little one the same as our first child?

I stepped over several books, a Hot Wheels car, and a toy horse to get him there, but I gently laid my snuggly little sleeping boy into his bed and settled the blanket over him. He didn’t even notice, although he did roll over and cuddle down into his pillow a bit more in his sleep.

Josiah will be three in March, but he still seems so little. Funny, because when I was pregnant with this little guy, his older brother was about this age, although at times Elijah seemed older.

As our second child, Josiah has been our lesson in realizing the multiplication of love.

When you get married, your love is directed very pointedly at one person. Yes, you still love family and friends, and most certainly and firstly God, but the love that you share with your spouse will build your life and family in a new way. You learn to sacrifice and give of yourself daily to minister to one person.

Then the love between you and your spouse begets a new one: your first child. Suddenly you are hit with so much overwhelming love you don’t know how you can stand it. All of those sappy Hallmark and Johnson’s Baby Wash commercials hit home in a way that is so much more personal and heart-wrenching. (Seriously – tearing up over diaper advertisements is kind of annoying). Your world is so full with giving and giving and giving to this demanding, needy, beautiful, precious child. They bring you joy and sleepless nights, and you love every minute of it (okay, let’s be honest – not every minute. Sometimes it’s WAY HARD, and you are beyond exhausted and frustrated, but you know deep down that they are so, so worth it).

Elijah and me on his first night home.

When you discover that Baby #2 is growing in your belly, it’s not exactly the same as when you found out you were pregnant with your first child. It’s just as wonderful, just as exciting, and just as precious. But now you know what’s ahead…and you don’t.

With Elijah, we were blissfully clueless, like every new parent ever in the history of the world. We knew about other people’s children. We had an “idea” (hahahaha) of what to expect. We were as prepared as we could be, and yet we were woefully unprepared.

Then we learned. We experienced firsthand the struggles, the revealing of still-hidden selfishness in our hearts (babies will root it out!), the discovering of unexpected reserves of strength and tenacity that even I, a very stubborn person, didn’t know I had. We endured the exhaustion, the helplessness, the euphoric happiness, the awe-filled moments, the diapers, and the crying-for-no-reason (Elijah’s and ours). We felt the all-encompassing love that grabs your heart and turns your eyes toward Heaven, giving you a glimpse of how completely God loves us, changing your relationship with Him and your perspective of Him forever.

Brad holding newborn Elijah.

That is how it was with the first child.

The second gives you pause, even if the very briefest of milliseconds of a pause.

You now have experiences, both good and bad. You know as you didn’t before what you are getting into. Those first six weeks with a newborn can be a battle, even with the best of babies, and the nine months leading up to it will be unlike the first pregnancy. Now you are not just pregnant, but you are pregnant while caring for and chasing after a child, one that you have to help prepare for a sibling’s arrival.

You love your first child so much. Will you feel the same toward another one? This next child will be different in many ways. Will you bond as well with him?

In all honesty, Brad struggled more with this question than I did at points, but even I, the mother, who could feel his wiggles and kicks and rib-breaking shoves (he was my parkour baby and still is), didn’t feel as connected to Josiah during my pregnancy as I did with Elijah. Perhaps it was because I was busier, more distracted this time around, since Elijah, at two, required a good deal of my attention and supervision. I didn’t have as many of those quiet, calm moments to just bask in the wonder of my baby’s little life, contemplating who he might become or what he would look like. I loved him, I anticipated his arrival, but I didn’t feel as though I “knew” him as well before he was born as I seemed to know Elijah.

Little Elijah napping

Facing down labor and delivery a second time, knowing what it really entailed instead of the vagueness of the “you’ll forget it all once your baby is here” fib, didn’t make it easier. I delivered both my boys naturally and without pain medicine, so choosing that intense experience again was still a little intimidating.

However, being more educated and confident in my position as a mom, I was ready to face what I had to because I also knew the sweetness and joy of a little one’s snuggles, coos, and giggles; the heart-melting tenderness that engulfs you when their tiny hand clutches yours; the completeness and contentment that surrounds you as they sleep peacefully in your arms; the joy and pride in watching them become their own little person, full of talents, personality, and uniqueness.

Josiah entered our world, and Brad and I still weren’t sure of what we’d name him. We thought we knew, but with Elijah we had pretty much known for certain. When the nursed laid Josiah, tiny and wiggly, on my chest, I pulled him up close, before they could clean him off or weigh him. I just held him, memorizing his puffy little features and surprised by his head full of dark hair. Then he cuddled into me, much as he still does now when I hold him, and I knew he was our “Josiah.”

Newborn Josiah at the hospital.

From that instant on, there was no doubt in my mind that I loved him as deeply and unconditionally as I loved Elijah. There was a space, a huge space, in my heart that was all for him, and he took it over completely.

Loving Josiah did affect my love for my hubby and Elijah, but it didn’t diminish it. In fact, the love in our family multiplied. Not only did we all adore Josiah, but my love for my other two guys grew as well. Watching Elijah become a wonderful big brother and seeing Brad’s pride in his two boys made my heart full to bursting.

: Elijah was so proud to be a big brother.

: Sweet little Josiah (photo courtesy Picture Bliss Photography)

: Our first family picture with Josiah. (photo courtesy Picture Bliss Photography)

We navigated the adjustment from a one-child home to a two-child home with a few bumps and scuffles, but we managed it, even on less sleep than before (because Elijah decided to stop sleeping all night, too, for a while).

While we hoped and prayed that Josiah might be calmer and more laid-back than his brother, we soon learned that he was our little daredevil, full of curiosity, fearlessness, and mischief – the perfect sidekick for Elijah.

As we bonded as a family, I once again felt that all-encompassing love that grabs your heart and turns your eyes toward Heaven, only this time, I saw a glimpse of not only how God loves me, but how He can love me AND every other person in the world, individually and completely, all at the same time.

Having one child had shown me God’s heart toward me. Having a second showed me His heart for everyone.

1 John 3:1 – “Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God! Therefore the world does not know us, because it did not know Him.”

Feature image courtesy Picture Bliss Photography.

How I Sabotaged Myself & Made a Bad Evening WORSE

January 7, 2016

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It was Elijah’s first day back to kindergarten after his winter break. It meant we all had to get back into our normal routines, readjusting from our more laid-back holiday schedule.

While we did try to get the boys to bed on time at least the few days leading up to Tuesday, I myself hadn’t gotten much sleep the last couple of nights. Part of it was because of a cold I’m getting over and part of it was staying up to read before going to sleep to help my busy, multi-tasking, always-thinking mind to settle down. As a result, I was operating with a sleep-deficit.

However, the early morning went well enough, despite the 16-degree temperature we faced in taking Elijah to school. Actually, most of the day went fairly well. Josiah helped me gather and start the laundry and then stayed busy with his newly-made play-dough while I worked on the dishes. He even went down for his afternoon nap easily enough, and by the time we picked up Elijah, I was pleased with how well our day was progressing. Sure, I hadn’t gotten to finish cleaning a few of the pans in the kitchen, and I still had a load of unfolded clothes sitting in the dryer, but I was going to work on those while dinner cooked.

I had no idea what was coming, but my lack of rest was not going to help.

In about an hour or two, through a series of accidents and everyday events, my happy Tuesday would turn into the “I just want to hide and cry” chaos that my hubby came home to.

All I clearly remember is that I started working on preparing dinner (Ree Drummond’s awesome broccoli cheese soup) while the boys played nicely together in the living room. I was on my second day of a real “meal plan,” something that I’m trying to implement to help me be (and feel) more organized, so everything was going according to plan. I just needed to chop an onion, some broccoli, and some ham to get going.

I had the onions in to saute when I heard Elijah half laugh, half scream, “Josiah’s in the bathroom.”

At some point during my chopping, Josiah, who is almost 3-years-old and 90% potty-trained, pooped in his underwear and was in the bathroom trying to take his pants off just as I got to him. I put him on the potty (of course he said he didn’t need to go anymore), dealt with the mess, scolded Elijah for having laughed about it the whole time we were in the bathroom, left them playing with their blocks, and went back to dinner prep.

I was in the middle of adding milk and cream to the broccoli and onions when I heard water running in the bathroom. Since that’s never a good sign, I hurriedly put the measuring cup down, which then spilled all over the counter and the top of our gas stove. Grabbing a few paper towels, I tossed it over the mess on the counter, and then sprinted to the bathroom to find Josiah with no pants on, standing on the step stool at the sink, rinsing his underwear under the running water.

He’d pooped again! Only this time he took care of it, sort of, himself, which honestly didn’t help.

Seriously, kid? Twice in less than a half-hour? Didn’t I just put you on the potty??? And you said, “I don’t need to go potty!”

So, once Josiah was cleaned and clothed for the second time, the boys were relocated to the kitchen table so I could see them easier. I finished mopping up the spilled milk (our dog, Vinny, helped with the floor clean up), and I measured out more milk and cream.

At this point, I was pretty frustrated, but the boys didn’t seem to notice because they started that wonderful pre-dinner complaining for food and drink while they are standing 10 feet away from the pot of soup that is cooking. (Because clearly I’m not planning to feed them EVER, right?)

I stirred the soup a bit, then got them both a small drink of juice, and returned to season the soup.

Then Elijah started rifling through my huge utensil drawer, digging out the potato masher and cookie cutters, looking for stuff to use with their play-dough. It might not have been a big deal, but 1) he didn’t ask, 2) he didn’t put the other stuff back, and 3) he actually had his own tools for play-dough AT THAT TABLE already.

So, I had to leave the soup. I asked him to put the things back (probably using short, clipped phrases because I was not a happy mommy), and helped him rearrange the contents of the drawer quickly so it could be shut again.

My patience was running horribly thin.

And then I smelled the broccoli soup…scorching.

And although the boys started fighting about something while I searched for a new pan to transfer our dinner to before it was completely ruined, I ignored them because addressing them in that moment of intense frustration wouldn’t have been wise. My mind was a muddled mess, and I was shifting to running mostly on emotions, which is never good.

Then Elijah complained about the smell. I’m pretty sure I glared at him, while assuring him that the soup was fine, and he was going to eat it no matter what.

With dinner salvaged and another pan to clean later (which just added to my stress because no, I never even had a chance to touch the other pans), I finished cooking and asked the boys to start cleaning up so we could eat.

But they didn’t start to clean up. They kept playing, and I yelled at them, somewhat ferociously.

Because I was irritated with them for not obeying and for causing me more work instead of just letting me make our dinner. I was frustrated with Josiah for not telling me when he needed to go to the potty. I was annoyed with Elijah for getting in to things and for complaining about being hungry while I was obviously having a difficult time cooking. I was beyond my temper over all the difficulties I had had with a simple dinner. And I was tired.

The boys finally started picking up, and I went about cleaning up the counter, including filling my flour canister with the bag of flour I’d had to open during my early soup prep. When the canister was half-full, I readjusted my hold on the bag… and it exploded. (Actually, the bag just tore, but the effect was the same.)

I looked down at the broken flour bag, the flour-covered counter and floor, and then glanced at my flour-covered self in disbelief.

Really, God? What was going on tonight?

Behind me, Elijah started complaining…again.

The woman who turned around on that boy was not the “Mommy” he expected and definitely not the one whose attention he wanted to get.

Seeing that they still hadn’t finished putting away their stuff, I immediately took away their dessert for the night and told them that as soon as they were done with dinner, they were going to bed.

They had to go to bed because I needed to go to bed. I was exhausted in every way.

By the grace of God, I didn’t completely snap. I sent them away from me to the living room so I could calm down. And I got the vacuum so I could clean up the flour mess.

By the time Brad got home, the boys were fed, nearly ready for bed, and we were all rather down. There wasn’t a lot of joy or peacefulness in our home. It definitely wasn’t a haven. There was still a hesitant tension in the air, and it was my fault.

Accidents, both potty-related and otherwise, happen – often – especially in a house with young children. Spills, messes, and “I forgot” are an everyday occurrence around here, and honestly, I’m usually the one reminding my husband that our boys are still little, still learning.

No, we don’t want them to get away with disobedience and not being quick to do what we ask, but most of their offenses that evening weren’t bad or in that arena. Had I had a little more patience with the lesser incidents, the major trouble of not obeying could have been dealt with easier.

And many of my difficulties weren’t entirely because of them.

I spilled the milk. I neglected to turn down the burner when I left the stove. I don’t even know what happened with the flour.

We all have those days. The ones where Murphy’s Law is working overtime to make sure that absolutely everything that can go wrong, does. The ones where we should really just stop what we’re doing and pray. Pray against strife, pray against short-tempers, pray for understanding and compassion, pray for patience, peace, and wisdom.

But if I don’t use wisdom and get sleep…then I’m not rested, and I’m already physically tired as I face a crazy day. I will fail to respond properly and won’t have a balanced view of things. In those moments, I tend to react more emotionally and more selfishly. When I’m tired, my flesh is even louder, so sensing God’s nudge in those trying situations is even harder.

As we said our prayers that night, I asked for forgiveness for my harshness and impatience, both from God and from my boys.

Then I went downstairs to get ready for bed myself, and because God has a sense of humor, as I was changing my clothes, I found a large lump in my back jean pocket.

Silly putty, slipped into my pocket by my mischievous Josiah at some point during the chaotic evening and smooshed hopelessly into the fabric because I’d already sat down on it before I realized it.

*Sigh* Yep. It had been one of those days, and it was time to get some sleep.

(Some of you may remember seeing this picture on my Instagram that night.)

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Not the best evening for this mommy. After a disastrous hour or so pre-dinner (pretty sure it's turning into a blog post), I end my night by finding silly putty in my back jean pocket, compliments of Josiah. (Special shout out to the grandparents who have him that awesome stocking stuffer.) I'm calling it a night and #praying for tomorrow. #sillyputtypocket #itkindoflookslikeaface #momof2yearold #momofboys #mamasaidtheredbedayslikethis #mommyblogger

A post shared by Kishona Lape (@lifeinlapehaven) on Jan 5, 2016 at 8:22pm PST