It was one of those mornings.
I heard the alarm go off far too early and, as my brain tried to come out of the fog of another sleepless night, I hit snooze, not once, but three times.
The little one stirred next to me and, before I could force my sleep-heavy eyes open, he was full on wailing.
I nursed him back to sleep and let the steaming waters of the shower wash me over with fresh strength for the day, but all I wanted to do was sleep.
I grumbled and worried as I struggled to wake the rest of the weary bodies in our home. They mumbled their own pleas for more rest and then whined and complained their ways through a hurried breakfast.
We made it out the door, by some miracle, with only ten minutes to spare before school started...only to remember half way there that it was PICTURE DAY.
We turned back for home and, with the boys still buckled in their car seats, I quickly pulled out the messy ponytail in my daughter's hair and rushed to curl it enough to be presentable for pictures.
I started to breath again, until my daughter started screaming when the curling iron brushed against her neck.
Horrified, I grabbed an ice pack and held her close, telling her over and over how sorry I was, wishing right then and there I could rewind time.
After finally dropping her off at school late and feeling my heart break when she refused to hug me goodbye, I cried all the way home and sent my husband a distressed text message.
"Sorry babe. Pretty sure you're not a bad mom," he reminded me, but I still wasn't convinced, so I wrote a distressed facebook post, wondering if there were any other moms out there who had been in my shoes.
Because the hard days always feel lonely until you reach out for help.
This time, help came in the form of comment after comment from other moms and friends who know me well. Their comments were like virtual hands reaching out to hold mine and remind me to breathe in grace.
Even on the days when I make a mess of mothering, grace and love really do cover a multitude of messes.
My husband was right. I may not be perfect, but the hard days don't make me a bad mom.
No, it's a good mom who picks up the broken pieces, holds out her hand to wipe away the tears on her child's face, and covers every mistake in an all consuming, never ending love that takes her breath away.
It's a good mom who doesn't give up, but stands firm even in the storms, holding onto the One whose grace and love is more than enough.
It's a good mom who knows that she isn't enough without Him whose strength is everything she needs.
And, most importantly, it's a good mom who remembers how His mercies are new moment by moment and, instead of looking back, she continues to move forward...
...one step at a time.
I'm joining the Creative Soul community this month for Back to School, Back to Writing.
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