This morning I was a bit of a Grump. A Grump is a disheveled, hairy, and hunched-over creature, a creature on the pathetic side: self-pitying and mostly harmless. It also has a stuffy nose, a puffy eye, and a sleep deficiency.
I wasn’t able to send my husband off to his studies with a smile. I barely had enough energy to engage him with eye contact.
I’m not perfect. I get frustrated with everything when I’m sleepy. I worry that my baby’s not sleeping right or that I should be doing something different. I’m manipulative, instead of asking my husband for support when I need it, I make myself difficult to be around in order to get attention.
Sometimes I paint the grey canvas with grey paint.
And in a way, I should be okay with that. That is, instead of getting upset that I’m not the sunshiny-perfect wife and mother. “It’s okay to need God’s grace” — I have to tell myself that. I should always need God’s grace…. I’m not even perfect at that.
So my prayer is that I will get better at asking for grace and that my domain as wife and mother would be characterized by good things. Not be perfect. Just characterized.
May my home be . . .
Characterized by cheerfulness.
Characterized by love and grace and forgiveness.
Characterized by order and cleanliness.
Characterized by selflessness.
Characterized by wisdom.
And every now and then everyone in it is allowed to be a Grump and splash grey paint about.