Mom guilt

Or in my case Mama guilt - heaven forbid they call me "mom". I won't answer.
And tonight it just may send me over the edge.

It's New Years Eve.
On this night we eat junk in the living room, drink Shirley Temples, listen to music, play games, and enjoy extra frivolity until time for the ball to drop in NYC and turn on the TV and count down with hundreds of thousands of others in the Eastern Time Zone.

This "party" may have been my idea of a good "tradition" several years ago.

Gene claims they (our offspring) aren't being any worse than normal.
I admit that my attitude stinks.

So, with out fanfare or sweet partings, I'm in my room.
I can't shake it. I could cry.
I'm writing about it.
I may still cry.
And pray.


I'm not being the joyful mother of children.
They are not bringing me joy - they are loading a camels with straws.

I'm mean and grumpy.
And I've ruled out hormones.

I'm tired.
I'm joyless.

And according to all these happy homemaker/joyful mothering things I follow, what I feel isn't right.
And that makes me feel guilty.
I should be able to choose my attitude.
I should be joyful surrounded by my loving husband and adoring children.

But instead . . .

Every wrong or misplaced word or action on their part seeks to send me over the edge.
I've barked and fussed and griped and . . .
I've tried to enjoy their silly.

But this evening, which should be a time of fun isn't.

If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
(how dare they be!?!?!)

So, I'm removed. Of my own accord.
They've finished eating. I heard them come down the hall to the linen closet for games.
It will be a mess.
Messes don't mess with me.

What is my deal?

And in my heart I keep hearing, "the joy of the Lord is my strength."
Where is that?
So I search it out.

In Nehemiah chapter 8, the law has just been read to the people and they bow down in worship and are weeping when Nehemiah says in verse 10,  “Go, eat of the fat, drink of the sweet, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”"
In verse 11 the priest calm the people saying, “Be still, for the day is holy; do not be grieved.”"

I'm grieved.
And my High Priest whispers to my heart that He is my strength. His strength is where my joy is found.
Not in the temporal. Not even in these people I love and live with.
Not even in the people I really to like, I just can't stand at the moment.
For no good reason.

Except maybe, the Good Shepherd needed to pull me aside, whisper in my ear and speak to my heart. Remind me to love with open hands. Remind me to realign my priorities.
Remind me that it really is okay to take a break.
A real break.
Gather my wits. Pray. Cry. Search. Listen.

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, 

Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. 

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, 

but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, 

yet without sin. 

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, 

that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

~  Hebrews 4:14-16 ~

He can sympathize. He lived with 12 rough fellas for 3 years - and sometimes He climbed a mountainside to go be alone with His Father.
I can confidently draw near the throne of grace - incomprehensible grace - and there get mercy and grace to help in a time of need.

Even the need of "straw reduction" for this grumpy camel.

It's a really good thing that He can see our hearts. Our inner attitudes and desires. And that He forgives so graciously.

It's okay.
I'm still not un-grumped completely. But I don't have to "listen" to all those happy mothers all the time - I don't have to add that guilt to this mad.

I can go climb a mountain (figuratively).

Plus, if I tried to run away, they'd want to come with me.
I may sit here a little longer.

yet I will rejoice in the Lord;

    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;

   He makes my feet like the deer's;

  He makes me tread on my high places.

~ Habakkuk 3:18-19 ~

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,

from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, 

which made heaven and earth.

~ Psalm 121:1-2 ~