A Cluttered Soul

"How does being a believer affect your everyday life?"

This is a question my mother-in-law asked me. I'm not entirely sure how to answer that. At least not simply.

Yesterday was a very difficult day. For me, as an introvert, being social takes a lot of energy, and with a 1-year-old who loves attention and interaction, some days are absolutely miserable...probably for both of us. Yesterday, I could not muster the energy to be excited about anything, I did not want to talk, much less talk with a 1-year-old, repeating the same words, same phrases, over and over and over again. On top of this, my son seemed especially demanding and short-tempered. I could not prepare his bottle fast enough, and then he wanted to be held, but I needed to make breakfast. He wanted to stick his hand in the trash can and pull things out, and put things in that didn't belong. He wanted to slam the cupboards over and over. He wanted to go upstairs. He wanted to pull off all the pieces of our roommate's succulent. The morning alone consisted of me saying, "No!" over and over and my son throwing a tantrum every time, shouting from me the umpteenth time, and a lot of frustration and anger and crying from both of us. I wanted nothing to do with anyone, much less a child, unless it consisted of him playing and me just keeping an eye on him in case of an emergency, and it seemed that was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to be held, wanted to get all the things on my desk, kept swiping things off the desk and my file box onto the floor -- every time I put them back, he managed to find a chance to do it again!

I tried to be patient, I really did! But this day, every instant it was gone just like that. I prayed, a lot. I sobbed, defeated, once, and cried a couple other times. For a little while, before his first nap, miraculously, I felt as though a weight had been lifted. I almost cried just at the sudden relief of all that strife! I know that was an answer to prayer, I know it was; but what I couldn't figure out is why it left again. Did I just want so much to have a selfish day that the sudden joy and relief had nowhere to settle in? Was that short time of reprieve what I needed to make it through this tough day?

I begged forgiveness every time I lost my temper, knowing I was not relating to and handling my son in a godly manner. I knew I was failing, and still I could not stand being a mother that day. As soon as I possibly could, I rounded up the baby and my husband that evening and headed out to Grammy and Grampa's, where I could finally receive help and divert my son's attention off me.

I guess these are just nooks and crannies...or, you know, whole rooms and closets in my heart that are still hoarding sin in my life. God found some when I got married. He found the mother-load (get it? "mother-load"?) when I had my son. Selfishness, fear, pride, anger, even bitterness, to name a few. Every day holds challenges, new and old, and every day is another day to realize just how much I need God to clean out this cluttered soul, and fill it with new and better things.