The Only Thing Worse Than a Bad Day is my Inability to Handle it

My day, yesterday, had started out well, or at least no different than normal.  Makaylia had messed through her diaper (for the third morning in a row), but that's what washing machines are for right?  I had my list of things to do, as well as my Plan B list for when I ran out of time and/or energy to accomplish what was on the first list.  And, it was Valentine's Day.  With an evening planned with my husband and our friends, my main goal was to enjoy the day with my kids and get ready for my date.

I'm not sure where the day made a turn for the worst but I soon found myself snapping at Kristopher and trying not to lose all my sanity in an unrelenting scream.  My day seemed to quickly fall apart, and so did I.  Nothing had been accomplished, or so it felt, and I was still unshowered.

After explaining this to a more experienced mom this morning.  She said, "I understand."  I thanked her and laughed, but then even more sincerely than the first time she said, "No, really, I understand."  Again, I thanked her and was quiet for fear that if I tried to speak again I would burst into tears.  It was so comforting for someone to be so empathetic; to be accepting of my imperfections and honest about her own all in one simple phrase.  She then shared a little piece of wisdom that really touched me.

She said that as a young mom she used to measure her success by how well she was able to keep it together, but later realized that wasn't how God measured her success.  He measured her success by whether she ran to Him, asking for His forgiveness and help.

Oh how I can relate to that feeling of defeat at the end of the day, or even mid-day.  All it would take is one moment of lost self-control and my day had been tainted.  Most of the time, my attention would then turn to God, but sometimes only half-heartedly.  What a difference it would make for my focus to be on the recovery and forgiveness of the situation rather than my mistake.  How much better will I fall asleep at night when instead of counting how many times I snapped counting how many times my thoughts were brought to my Savior and my spirit bowed to His strength and grace.