These last few days have been tough in the trenches of motherhood.

On Sunday morning, all three of my precious offspring were crying simultaneously. And loudly.

The Wee Man was kicking me as hard as his two year old legs could piston back and forth. I’m such a tyrant, making him wear a diaper and clothes to church.

This-this is exhausting.

And Husband was away for the moment {but hasn’t left on his long trip yet} and I am reluctantly remembering that this is what our life will be, for better or worse, over the next year.

And after I’ve thrown the baby in the bath, dried the tears of the six year old, wrestled down the toddler, microwaved my coffee, and safely contained them in my crumb-covered, trash strewn minivan … I falter for a second.  I can’t do this. 

I know this is only a season … a shorter thread in the long weave of our story … and I am all gratitude for the abundance of blessings we’ve been given. Truly we are rich.

But … BUT … my knowledge of God’s goodness is not making them cry less on this humid Sunday morning in Tennessee.

And I’m cruising toward church with my fingers wrapped in a death grip around the faux leather of the steering wheel, wondering if I will survive this with my sanity intact.

Then, the words from the radio {turned up louder than appropriate to drown out potential crying} filter into my four remaining brain cells. It’s a song by Switchfoot, titled “Help Me Find It.”  This is what I heard …

I’m giving You fear and You give faith
I giving you doubt
You give me grace
For every step I’ve never been alone.

And it’s truth. Truth I’ve experienced before, again and again. I know this. I’ve lived this. And I breathe in slow and the muscles in my face smooth and soften -they’ve been screwed up tight since 6 am – and I listen. I hear the Lord remind me that I am not alone and I travel on this journey with Him as my guide and the Body beside me, serving as the hands and feet of Christ.

And friends … this is where it gets real.

This is practical … it has skin on … this isn’t just a feel good moment with my chin up out of the mud for a moment, grasping for air. This is my brothers and sisters in Christ getting down in the trenches with me. Loving me. Serving me. It looks like meals, and lawn mowing, and babysitting, and fellowship. 

Case in point: My day did not magically get easier. Second Son pooped through two sets of clothes and my precious daughter whined all the way through the church service. But a friend came up in the midst of the chaos and offered me dinner for this Thursday. No reason … just to bless me and ease my burden for a wee moment. This, after two people in the span of two days chastised me for mowing the grass and offered to do it for me.

I am not alone. Not now, not ever.

Tonight, tonight I am praising a steadfast God, and His children who love us well.

~M.

{Linking up with Imperfect Prose and #TellHisStory}

{Update: I keep getting in the car and hearing this song. First one on the radio every time. It’s officially my deployment theme song.}