Though a Mom May Stumble

I messed up a lot last week.

I let my girls leave the house a couple mornings without brushing their teeth.

I cast empty threats when they bickered or whined. I will take all your stuffed animals away, do you hear me?

I even barked at my husband on Father’s Day and (wrongly) accused him of not appreciating his present. Seriously. Am I awesome or what?

But I also did a few things right.

I kissed my girls on the forehead and told them how much I love them.

I splashed in the pool instead of reading a book poolside. (Not that there’s anything wrong with lounging poolside, gals—but my six-year-old still can’t swim so my presence was kind of vital to her survival, or so the pool rules say.)

And I collected plenty of moments in which I spoke gently, redirected kindly, and hugged so tightly it hurt.

At the end of the day, I’ve got to hope my deposits outweighed my withdrawals. That we built more happy memories than cranky ones. That I smiled more than I spewed.

But what if I didn’t? What if it’s just been that kind of rotten week?

What if you had that kind of week, too?

Then I have news that might surprise you.

You’re the only one keeping score.

“If you, LORD, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand?” (Psalm 130:3)

Sunday morning at church, our worship team sang this song. I’ve heard it before; I’ve sung it before; I’ve led it from the stage before. But after the kind of up-down, score-keeping week I had, the words spoke fresh to my heart.

We are the sons, we are the daughters of God
No matter where we go, we’re close to the Father’s heart.
And though we stumble He will not let us fall
We are the Lord’s and He will never forsake his own
We are the sons, we are the daughters of God

When the lies speak louder than the truth
Remind me I belong to You . . .

No matter how badly we mess up, our Heavenly Father still loves us. And—even if we do everything right, He can’t possibly love us more. Think about it. We’re parents; we get this. Our love for our kids is not dependent on their performance. We love them through their tantrums and mistakes. (We might not like them very much at certain moments, but truth be told I don’t like myself very much in those moments, either.)

Why does God love me? Why does he love you? Because we’re his daughters. Plain and simple. Yes, we’re also moms—earthly moms with earthly flaws—but greater than our role as parents is our role as children.

We’re God’s children.

And he has endless compassion for us.

“As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him” (Psalm 103:13).

So whatever kind of day you’re having, whatever kind of season you’re in, will you remember? God isn’t keeping score. And if you’re anything like me, then that news works really well in your favor.

Praise the Lord.

Blessings,
Becky

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