Moodiest of Moods

It's amazing how quickly the change comes. Almost like it blew in with the frigid air when the front door was thrust open. And my heart turns frigid. 

A peaceful moment. A contented conversation. Children laughing, playing, running. 

All too quickly the peace has passed, the contentment has been banished, and I'm growing seeds of bitterness and resentment. I'm caught off-guard by the change in climate. But am I, really? 

I take a moment to sit; to ponder; to wonder; to discuss. 

I realize I have a confession to make. {gulp} 

I like to play the martyr. 

I like to weigh my sacrifices against yours. 

I like to look for those little ways that I may be the one who is sacrificing more, doing more, putting in more effort, scrubbing harder, etc. 

Especially against those in my own house. 

I often welcome pity parties as old friends, here to help me lick my perceived wounds. 

I find myself making lists in my head and counting checks. 

And the seeds are watered.

I dwell on my hurts and nurse them a little too long.

And the seeds sprout.

I speak harshly against the accused. I mutter under my breath, words of ugliness. Or better yet, I withhold all words. 

And the sprouts grow. 

"God, what am I doing?" 

The list pounds in my head, reminding me of my "sacrifices". 

"Lord, do you see? Do you feel the weight I'm carrying?" 

Shhhhhh. 

Child of mine. Listen. 

I stop. I breathe. 

And He gently reminds me ... 

How do I look at this child of mine that you are taking up arms against?

"Really? Oh ... Lord ..."

With love. 

With patience.

With grace.

With forgiveness.

Yes, child.

And He uses His vessels to push me even further.

"So, how do we rid ourselves of this attitude?"

By thanking Him

By turning these pity parties into praise. 

By turning these mis-truths into His truth. 

By not allowing the Evil One in to whisper lies in our ears. 

By believing in pure and honest motives. 

::Sigh::

I am reminded that my pity parties wreak of selfishness. 

My sin is just as bad as another's sin because it's all sin in His eyes. He sees it all as missteps and does not weigh one against the other. 

I do; not Him. 

Turn these seeds of discord into seeds of praise. 

And I am pruned by the Master Gardener. 

He pulls out the weeds of resentment and bitterness that have sprouted in my heart. 

Pour out your heart, child.

Exhale the seeds of sin.  

Breathe in the seeds of praise. 

Praise Him for friends who can slap me out of my selfish thoughts and turn me back to the Lord. 

Praise Him for this life I have and the ones I share it with. 

Praise Him. 

Praise Him for children, even if they don't nap.

Praise Him for this home, even if it's a blessed mess.

Praise Him. 

Praise Him when my heart hurts.

Praise Him when I feel like I carry a heavy load, because I can know He carries it too.

Praise Him.

Praise Him.

Praise Him. 

Praise Him.