I flipped out on my family a few times this past long weekend. Ironic that the long weekend was due to a holiday we have around here called, Family Day. In retrospect I was celebrating Me Day on the Me Long Weekend. For the rest of my family trying to celebrate the actual titled day off, it didn’t go well.
I don’t know how it happens because I know better. I’ve written the words about how we’re to rejoice in the mundane and I’ve talked about this position we’re in as mama’s being kingdom work and about not believing the lie that it will be better at some other point.
It seems that when we think we’re above something is when it attacks. If we’re of the thinking that we would never cheat on our spouse, or never lie to our employer or never deny God to those around us is probably the exact time we need to realize that we aren’t above it. We aren’t better than it. We can’t muscle our way through it. We may not scoff at those who have found themselves in these very positions. Because we might just be next…
The more life stories I hear from people the less I am surprised by any of it. The deeper into the tales of tradgedy and horror, of victimization and sin, of being so deeply betrayed and being the betrayer, the more I just nod my head and sigh a sigh and state, “I know.”
Because deep within all of us we have stories and we keep them hidden way down because they make us feel shame and we know that nobody would ever look at us the same, or trust us with their children, or give us a job, or leave us alone with their husband or personal possessions if they knew the truth. We hide under the cover of little sins, never to upheave the mountain of garbage that is hiding beneath the surface.
But we all have it. That mountain of garbage. It’s deep and it’s thick and the stench coming off of it makes you nauseous. The rats rummage around down there telling us it’s their feast, that we should leave it there for them and never expose it because it’s a place of deep rooted guilt and hurt. It’s a place that nobody ever needs to hear about. They won’t find out. Its stuff we can take with us to the grave. They wouldn’t understand. They’ll judge and whisper and scoff at us behind our backs.
It’s crazy to me that we still operate under this model. Because, have you read the scripture? We see sexual perversion and murder and outright denial. We see lust and greed and unending wickedness but somehow we think we’re above it now. That was then. Those guys didn’t have it figured out like we do. We know Jesus. We read our bible sometimes and we sing and sometimes we raise our hands and we’ve got this. Our story is different.
I just want you to know that I don’t have this. This life. This living for Jesus thing. I have no handle on it whatsoever. I’m not nailing it like I want to be. I’m not living it like I know I should. I’m not the instagram picture of the model christian life.
No, I flipped out on my family this weekend. Repeatedly. I used harsh words. Shame inflicting words. I stated to my husband that, “Our boys suck!” They probably heard me.
I wonder why God would have possibly placed me as responsible for three of his image bearers. Why he possibly would have felt that I should be joined as one to a man who deserves better. Why I would be blessed with living in a rich nation when I squander our resources on boots and eye wrinkle cream.
I read this morning in Luke 6: 40 that “…everyone, when he is fully trained, will be like his teacher.”
This knocked the wind right out of my chest and landed me on my face before God.
I freaked out on my family because they have entitlement issues. They feel like life should be handed to them on a platter. That clean laundry just magically appears and dinner is simply a request away from being served to them. I raged because they believe that their mess will clean up itself or at the very least, mom will do it. I fumed because I was spending my days picking up after them and ranting about how they don’t care and they just expect that they can do what they want, when they want, with barely lifting a finger.
You know why I raged? You know why my insides were boiling and I lashed out in harsh words at their little faces?
Because I have entitlement issues!
Because I want what I want, when I want it and I don’t want to lift a finger to get it. I’m mad because life doesn’t work like that and the floors don’t clean themselves and nobody’s helping or better yet doing it for me so that I can sit on the couch and watch Canada rake in the Olympic medals.
I’m mad because they’re getting what I want and I can’t have it. I’ve taught them everything I know.
I’ve taught them to complain about hard work and I’ve taught them to fume over being the one to have to get down on my hands and knees and scrub the floors. I’ve taught them to shoot glares because I have to do something I don’t want to do and I’ve taught them to get harsh and then quiet and ignore anyone who tries to talk to you because I am so incredibly arrogant.
I’ve taught them that I’m entitled to time on the couch and if you disturb me I won’t be happy and I’ve taught them that going to your room and shunning people is a good way to handle your anger because, I’ll teach everyone a lesson by it!
I’ve taught them that they should serve me when I’m mad and come in and apologize and make it right. I’ve taught them that they should do stuff for me and that my love isn’t sacrificial but is earned through pleasing me. I’ve taught them that ranting gets results and stomping moves people to action and somehow I am so, so, so surprised when they do these things back to me.
A student will be just like his teacher.
I’ve taught them a lot.
Thank the Lord there is time for reteaching.
After school I’ll teach them what repentance looks like. I’ll teach them about confessing our sins before a Holy God. I’ll teach them to see that their mama is so broken. So wicked. That her heart is capable of massive amounts of evil. I’ll teach them not to be shocked by the sin that they see in others because they see it right here. Right in our home. The ways we want nothing more but to serve and honour God and how that just doesn’t always play out.
I’ll teach them that pride and envy and entitlement and arrogance can work their way into anyones heart.
And then I’ll ask for their forgiveness and I’ll teach them that admitting when you’re wrong isn’t shameful. I’ll teach them that humbling yourself before the Lord and those you’ve hurt isn’t a bad place to be. I’ll teach them that this is where freedom happens. This is where relationships grow and run deeper. This is where we get to see, in tangible form, why Jesus had to go to the cross. I’ll teach them we need not hide behind our sin or push it down into the garbage heap of guilt. Instead, they’ll learn that scripture is true and that repentance is right and forgiveness is a glorious thing.
I want them to know that sin is in everyone. Their mama and dad. Their pastors and their grandparents. Their friends and the guys on duck dynasty, even though they pray before every meal.
I want them to know that we need not be shocked by people’s confessions but rather nod and sigh and understand that none of us are above it. We all have our stories and each day we go wrong and we need not be defeated by it but rather take it to the one who overcame it all.
I want to teach them Jesus. We’ll start all over again today.