If You Write the Words, You Will Eat Them Within 24 Hours

I've had a horrible day.

It started out fine. Brian took Emma to school so I had a bit more time this morning. I got the car washed and pulled into the church parking lot at 8:55AM. And then my phone rang. It was the school nurse.

Emma has a cough. Yeah. I know. She'll be coughing from now until June. So will I. She inherited my allergic cough. Nothing I can do about it. She's fine.

I went on to Bible study, but was distracted by maternal guilt. What kind of mother tells the school nurse she is NOT going to pick up her child from school? But I was at Bible study. And we missed last week because of "snow". And I really, really, really needed to be at Bible study. I needed to talk to adults. I needed to hear whatever Beth Moore had to say. I've spent the last week taking care of everyone in the house with various illnesses, while not feeling well myself and not having anyone interested in taking care of me. I needed to be refreshed and renewed.

My phone rang again at 9:45. This time, it was the teacher. And this time, I could hear Emma coughing in the background. A LOT of coughing. Every 30 seconds or so.

I managed to get her an appointment with her allergist for 11AM. The problem with an 11AM appointment? Nothing. For Emma. EVERYTHING for James. He fell asleep 30 seconds before we got there. He did not wake up happy.

I'll spare you the details of the next hour, but they included a lot of crying (mostly by James, maybe a little by me), Emma's ADHD meds wearing off, me being clawed on the neck by James' fingernails I meant to trim yesterday, etc.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I thought "This is NOT what I had planned for today."

And then I remembered yesterday's post and that Voice asked me if I was, perhaps, throwing a fit because things weren't going my way.

Now, in all fairness, my thoughts about throwing a fit when things don't go as planned were more along the lines of the big things. You know, having a child with a rare genetic syndrome or losing three family members to cancer in the space of six months. BIG THINGS.

But, apparently, God meant it for the little things, too. I wish I could tell you this insight made a huge difference in my morning, but I'm still struggling with it. I still don't see the point in my entire week going down the toilet (as I told the nurse).

So, the moral of this story is simple. If you have the nerve to blog about some sort of spirtual insight, you should expect to get to test it out in the real world. Probably the very next day. You have been warned!

(I have to go now. Emma is trying to remove my hands from the keyboard. She wants to play Starfall.)