My son is getting old enough to have grumpy days. I don't like them.

That said, I dislike my grumpy days even more. Gabriel's sour puss is almost laughable, and it's definitely correctable. But I can hardly laugh at my own moodiness (that would be simply traitorous to my severe melancholy streak)--and my gracious husband can attest that it's usually best that others don't try to make me laugh either.

Yesterday I was rather Eyore-like all day long. It seemed that the world was caving in around me continually.

I tried hard to break out. In fact, when I first felt that give-up-and-go-to-sleep feeling creeping upon me, I immediately began employing the ACTS model we were charged on Sunday morning to utilize. I folded laundry and I adored. I washed the dishes and I confessed (that just might have been the longest portion of my prayer time, I am ashamed to admit). I nursed the baby and gave thanks. I vacuumed and was loud and sure in my supplications.

Maybe I'm the only person who has those kinds of days. You know, the kind when you see the battle before you and you fight to overcome your flesh, only to find that there seems to be extra opportunity and ammunition for the opposition and it kind of wears you down. Whether you have them or not, I do; and I had one yesterday.

Sometimes I just plain old forget that perfection won't be reached until I'm with Him forever. I forget that the ground is cursed and that the job done today will surely need to be done again tomorrow (or later today, since I have toddlers). The problem with forgetting this is only made worse by that old tendancy in me to look for validation and assurance through tasks performed well and completed.

At any rate, I've always thought that Eyore needed to meet Jesus. And I needed to meet with Jesus a whole lot yesterday.

The cool thing?

He meets with me. He doesn't care that I was wearing grungy clothes and never took time to put make-up on. He's not intimidated by my sharp tongue and lousy attitude. He doesn't recommend getting some things done so that I feel better about life before talking with Him. He just gets in the boat with me.

It's true: I stink; the boat is often messy; the un-caught fish sure do outnumber the caught fish; I'm discouraged. But He gets in the boat with me anyway.

And His words of life really do change it all. They change me.

Your mercy, O Lord, is in the heavens; Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds. Your righteousness is like the great mountains; Your judgements are a great deep; O Lord, You preserve man and beast. How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings. They are abundantly satisfied with the fullness of Your house, And You give them drink from the river of Your pleasures. For with You is the fountain of life; In Your light we see light. Oh, continue Your lovingkindness to those who know You, And Your righteousness to the upright in heart.
~Psalm 36:7-10