I was having a really tough week. Physically – I had yet another ovarian cyst rupture which caused a fever and immense pain along with a horrible headache that refused to go away. Emotionally – my heart was feeling cold, numb, and completely turned off to my husband. There was a lot on my heart that I was putting off communicating to him because I knew it would leave him feeling uncomfortable. I was feeling like a terrible mom (I always do) because I wasn’t in the mood to be around my children. The pain from the cyst rupture coupled with how easily overwhelmed & overstimulated I get around them made everything worse. Mentally – yeah right. My mental health was in the trash. I won’t even go into detail about how in shambles it was.

I can’t remember exactly what happened, but I know I said or did something that made me feel like an awful mom, specifically to Elora. When she went to bed for the evening, I prayed and asked the Lord to help me be a better, more patient, kind and living wife and mother. I had been letting stuff pile up internally and as soon as I was shaken, I would explode. I know I’m not perfect by ANY means, but every time I’d have this occurrence I’d be reminded of my very weak, sinful humanity. It’s a gut wrenching feeling that makes you more aware of the mercy and grace that you need more & more of on a daily basis. 

Anyways…it’s Saturday. Saturdays used to be one of my favorite days of the week (in addition to Sundays) because Elliot and I could look forward to getting somewhat of a “break.” Elora usually goes over his parents’ house every weekend to spend time with her grandmother for the day and it was our little way to decompress from parenthood and either spend the time with each other that we don’t really get to spend during the weekdays, or have our personal “me time” –– he’d go off and do his own thing and I’d stay home and do mine. Since my mother-n-love’s recent health scare, Elora has been home with us on Saturdays. Having a newborn and a 3 year old is hard enough, but it’s REALLY hard when you’re a highly sensitive person, you and your partner both work from home, you struggle with your physical health, your newborn is colicky and your 3 year old has the energy of a bunny rabbit. I just happen to wake up before 6am after a few hrs of broken sleep from hearing Elaina cry from the living room during the middle of the night and I already wasn’t sleeping well because my soul hadn’t been at ease due to my physical, mental, and emotional condition those past few weeks. Elora woke up earlier than usual and that was trigger number one. I cannot stand when she wakes up early on the weekend. I didn’t get as much time to myself as I usually do. I had almost passed out in the shower because of the intense headache I had. My hair was falling out in literal chunks as I was washing it due to being postpartum and I was horrified watching it all go down the drain. Trigger number…I don’t even know at this point because so many things triggered me in between the time Elora woke up and me exploding (we’ll get there) – Elliot spilled a whole entire bottle of fresh milk that I had just got done pumping for Elaina because of his unwillingness to pay attention to detail (which is something I’ve had an issue with for a while and he was very aware because we had just had the conversation). The milk thing sent me over the edge because I had just thrown at least 20 oz of milk away from not knowing how long it had been in the refrigerator (I didn’t know it was only supposed to be in the fridge for up to 8 days) and I was diligently trying to build my stash back up…but the push that tipped the boat over was Elaina waking up from her nap hollering to the point of vomiting and for over 30 minutes. When I realized there was nothing to do to calm her, I aggressively handed her off to Elliot, stormed into my office, slammed the door shut and locked it. I sat in my chair and started massaging my temples because the headache I woke up with got worse the more the tension built throughout the day and I just…started to cry. I texted my sister and started venting, again (we always vent to each other especially in the moments when we should turn to God instead of each other, admittedly). I sat there, in the silence, and the Holy Spirit whispered these words to me…

“Didn’t you just pray to be a more patient, kind, and loving wife and mother? Can you not see that I’m giving you opportunity after opportunity to answer you? How much more will you fail these tests?”

I immediately repented. These are the moments when the enemy will try to use guilt and condemnation against you. Luckily for those of us who are in Christ, we don’t have to fall for it. He tried his best to build a case against me — but instead I leaned into the questions that the Lord asked me and basked in the delight of recognizing that even in these really, REALLY hard moments, He is extending to us grace, mercy, love, and kindness. 

I went out of my office, found my little family and apologized for the way I had been behaving. How I haven’t been a very patient, kind or loving wife and mama. I laid in my hudband’s lap and asked for their forgiveness…and just like the Father does us, they embraced me with loving, open arms, kissed & hugged me, asked if there was anything they could to do help, and let me know that they still love me. We ended up getting out of the house and I thought the happily ever after part of the story would’ve happened by now. It did not.

We went out and I could not shake my mood. It was like there was a cloud of heaviness hovering over me. I think it was just a buildup of everything — the overwhelm, the overstimulation, the chronic stress and burnout, the fact that I have never had a legitimate break since I’ve been a mother going on 4 years. The fact that I feel like these kids come between me and my husband, the fact that we have YET to go on a honeymoon, the fact that I so badly just want to be a normal person and not a highly sensitive one…ALL OF IT. Later that evening, Elaina started her her infamous hollering fit. And she went for HOURS. I decided to lay down because at this point my head felt like someone had dropped a brick on it. I just laid in the dark, listening to Elora throw her three year old temper tantrums and Elaina screaming at the top of her lungs well past her bedtime. I knew my husband was struggling with the girls but I didn’t really care. I didn’t have the bandwidth to care. Shortly into the chaos, he texted me and asked if I could go into the bathroom with Elora and monitor her bath-time while he tried to get Elaina to sleep. I literally dragged myself out of bed, went in the bathroom, sat on the stool and completely zoned out. I sat there in the most non-responsive daze as my bubbly, bright, and strong-willed babygirl begged me to play with her. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. It felt like my head was going to burst into a million little pieces, the weariness started to consume me — I tried my absolute best, but she knew something was wrong. The enemy likes to corner me like this because he knows that if he can get me to a weak place like this, he can get me to believe his lies. And he did. All I kept hearing was, “you’re ruining your girls. Look at you…can’t even have fun giving your daughter a bath. You’re pathetic. They’re gonna grow up resenting you. How could you leave your husband to struggle by himself while you just sit here? You’re such a burden to them. You might as well get up and leave…they’d be better off without you.” Elliot walked back into the kitchen to get Elaina’s bottle together to see if that would stop her from screaming and I heard him doing everything…alone. Struggling with one arm. I still couldn’t get up. He came into the bathroom, saw me, and told Elora, “I need you to give yourself a bath. Remember how I taught you the other night?” She responded in the cutest way. It was like I was invisible to them even though I was sitting right there on the stool. My eyes filled with tears and my chest started feeling like it was going to cave in. I finally got the strength to get up and go to the bedroom. I laid down and started having a panic attack. “Maybe you’re right” I said to the devil. “Maybe they are better off without me.” I kept overhearing my patient husband struggle as he was trying to finish Elora’s bath and stop Elaina from hollering. Elaina was crying so hard to the point where she was having coughing fits. I don’t really care how “out of it” I am — if I hear or see my babies in distress I’m gonna snap out of it and come to their rescue. No matter what. I went in there to grab Elaina, took her out of her clothes, changed her diaper and laid her on my chest. Once she was calm, I gave her the bottle Elliot made, she took it and fell asleep on me. After Elora was done with her bath and got dressed, she came and found me with the biggest smile on her face as if she forgot all about me being too weak to give her a bath. Anytime she sees me her face just lights up. That’s how I know that what the enemy was trying to convince me of were all lies. 

Anyway…

As my girls and I sat in the bed together, the dark cloud that had been consuming me all day finally swallowed me up. At least that’s what it seemed like. I was plotting to leave after the girls’ went to sleep for the evening. I didn’t know where I was going or if I’d even return, but I most definitely wanted to bounce. Elliot came in the room and I told him to take Elaina because I was about to leave. He asked me where I was going and I replied “I don’t know.” He straight up told me no. Lol. “If I have to hide every single one of these keys I will. You ain’t going nowhere.” I knew he’d say that so I don’t even know why I got upset. Elora was co-signing on the side. He started asking me a a series of questions and I told him I didn’t want to have those kind of conversations in front of our extremely smart and conscious 3 year old who eventually caught on to what was happening which was the exact reason why I try to hide how I’m really feeling from her. She laid on my lap so that I wouldn’t leave and eventually fell asleep. Elliot pulled me up and led me to the couch. “I’m not trying to pastor you right now” (because he is definitely a pastor and pastors me all the time in these situations lol) “I’m trying to be your husband who is your protector and leader and because of that, I cannot let you leave this house. Your emotions are too high and you’re not in the right headspace.” I’ll spare you the rest of the details, but he eventually ended up talking me down and then started praying for me. Any time this man prays over me I’m always amazed at how articulate he is and how well he petitions the Lord. He KNOWS God, okay?! I can’t help but to get turned on whenever he goes in for me lollll. We ended up talking for a good hour and I finally went to sleep for the evening — without ever leaving the house. I slept good because he prayed that I would. But when I woke up that Sunday morning, that cloud of heaviness was still lingering.

I’m not sure if I already said this or not because this story is starting to get really long, but he told me to stay home from so that I can have some much needed time to myself and he would just take the girls. I agreed to the plan, but when I walked into my office and sat at my desk that Sunday morning settled on not going, the Lord spoke to me clear as day. “Get up and get ready.” I didn’t hesitate. One thing about me…Ima always be obedient. Period. And I did exactly that. I didn’t want to though. It was pouring down raining and I really just did not feel like it. When the girls got up, the Sunday morning chaos commenced. Honestly after the way my husband had prayed for me that night before, I was expecting the morning to be a breeze. It was not. I was rushing, per usual. Elora was tantruming, per usual. Elaina was being Elaina, per usual. I just sighed and silently asked God to just get me through the day. I tried to shake it off as best as I could when we got to church and worship started. I do a great job outwardly masking how I feel internally. No one outside of my husband really knows how I’m doing other than what I tell them when they ask. Praise & worship was hot fire as always, but that cloud that wouldn’t lift just kept getting darker & darker even as my hands were lifted in worship. The cherry on top was when I looked in my brand new LV Neverfull bag that Elliot bought me as my push gift and saw that Elaina’s bag of milk spilled everywhere. I legit almost started crying. “Wow, another bag of milk. Wasted. In my brand new LV bag.” The presence of the Lord was so thick in the house that it felt tangible. My sister-friend, Tiffany, got up and started exhorting. It was like God was speaking directly to me straight through her. I felt this pull from the alter and I had no choice but to go. As tears streamed down my face, I fell to my knees and released everything that I had been bottling up for the longest. So much so that my stomach and chest literally started hurting. It was a lot. Mama Rhonda came behind me and started doing an impromptu deliverance session. I won’t go into detail, but every spirit that had a grip on me finally let me go. I’l never forget the words she spoke over me. It’s like she knew everything. My husband kneeled behind me covering me in prayer as she was laboring with me. She even said, “your man was right there with you tryna get you free, girl!” as we were joking after we were done. I got up from that alter feeling so free. So much lighter. I realized that day how much the Lord really cares about our freedom. How invested He is in our peace and joy on a daily basis. How much He’s willing to be right beside us in the most tumultuous of storms. 

If you hadn’t caught on by now, let me make it plain and simple: The Lord allows the hard situations in our everyday mundane lives as wives and mothers to give us ample opportunity to become more like Him — patient, loving, kind, merciful, gracious, and gentle. It is up to us, during those hard, sometimes grueling moments, to recognize HIS goodness & faithfulness in providing us the amazing opportunity to grow in our patience, love, and kindness. He is faithful, and He’ll always want to provide us with the chance to become more like His son, Jesus. That’s the whole point of Christianity. That’s the whole point of being Christian wives and moms. When we pray to be better women for our husbands and children, please believe the hard will get harder and the going will get tougher. It is literally our perfect Father letting us know that He indeed hears us, even we think He doesn’t.

It has now been a good amount of time since I’ve felt that spirit of heaviness. Ever since that beautiful Sunday when I got delivered from everything I was struggling with (sadness, hopelessness, etc.), I can honestly say that I’ve been so much more joyful and at peace in my everyday life as a wife and mother. I go through the motions of the mundane with a grateful and cheerful heart. I’m excited to wake up and serve the Lord by serving my family to the best of my ability. I feel closer than the Lord now more than ever.

Have things in your life been just plain hard lately? Have you felt like you’ve reached your breaking point? Have you been daydreaming about running away from your reality and never coming back? Girl, me too! But we know we can’t leave. We know we can’t give up. We know we can’t fold and throw in the towel just because things are hard and we want out. I love my life, even in the hard moments. I know you do, too. We were called to this life as wives and mothers to lovingly serve our family and be the lioness that wages war against the kingdom of hell by doing so. Do not give the enemy the upper hand by allowing him to use our own lack of love, patience, and kindness against us. Get up, dust yourself off, and fight back. We have to too much riding on this.

Spoiler: we already have the victory through Christ.

Xo – Riss