You would never guess that I attended two church services yesterday if you judged my evening behavior.
I was helping the kids clean up their room before bedtime and when I was putting one of Caleb's toys away in his closet, I noticed his shelf was falling apart. It is one of those cube wire type shelves that hold together with little clips-one can build them in various shapes to fit one's needs. This particular shelf has stayed together for quite sometime, which is why it surprised me to see it falling apart on the inside.
Thinking it would be a quick fix, I did not bother to remove the toys, but simply attempted to push it back together. After the fifth toy fell and crashed into lower shelves, I gave in and removed all of the items.
Each attempt at fixing it led to the same result-90% finished and then one piece would push together too hard and make the entire structure crumble to the floor. Of course, being made of metal, the sound of the shelves crashing together did nothing to help my spirit.
To know my temperament, you must know my dad. The big things might not stress him out, but the little, nitty-gritty things will drive him crazy. I have fond (yes, fond) memories of my dad losing his temper over a piece of machinery not working, over an escaped cow who was determined not to return to the barn but rather would wander down the road, or over a small project that would just not come together. I completely and totally get this from him.
Sure, I worry about the future for our kids and fret over financial dilemmas. But, the events that really make me lose my cool are situations such as this. Why would the shelf not stay together?
As I stubbornly kept rebuilding it, my surroundings became more annoying. It felt as though the pleasant breeze coming through the window stopped right before the closet, causing it to be quite hot. Caleb insisted on "helping," but considering his diaper was fresh with poop, it was difficult to appreciate his intentions. Abby decided right then to ask to go outside and get ice cream from the ice cream truck (those drivers always have the worst timing) and my response probably scared her from ever asking such a question. And, of course, my dear husband...who every now and then would check on me and ask what the heck I was doing.
It is a miracle he is still alive today.
I finally gave up, threw (yes, threw) the pieces back into the closet, along with Caleb's toys. It felt kind of good to fling each item in there with a flourish, but like any temper tantrum, I still had to clean it up the next day.
So, first thing this morning, I cleared everything out and bit by bit, it came back together. It is amazing how easily it came together when my head was clear and I had a fresh attitude.
I come back to the fact that I attended two church services just hours before my breakdown. How does that happen? I am such a sinner that my words of praise to my Savior turn to quite the opposite within moments. Why on earth does He love me and forgive me?