Cracking up… in more ways than one

   I’m a bit cracked…. but most of you know that already.

Sometimes, it’s kinda fun.  I love humor ( see above picture of Ruby, my alterego), and find odd things really funny.  I also love to make people laugh, whether it’s something I say or doing something out of the ordinary.   Sometimes, it’s really painful, like this morning when I lost my cool with the kids after constant interruptions and bickering.  I’m not a perfect mother.  Lots of cracks there.

The struggle this morning is acknowledging this same old crack that has come up again and being willing to give it back to the Lord.  I need to seek forgiveness from Him and my kids and move on.  I dwell on the cracks because I hate imperfection.  It annoys me like a scratchy shirt tag that won’t lie down.  I want things smooth and seamless.  I want to be perfect and I am not.  It’s funny how many times God uses my kids to remind me of this.  I have trouble not dwelling on the cracks… is this my human nature or is it part of OCD and trichotillomania?  How much grace am I allowed when I’ve blown my stack for the zillionth time over the same stupid thing?  God may not run out of grace or patience with me, but my family might. 

Brokenness is not weakness, nor does it doom me to a life of uselessness. I am a cracked pot.  My head knows that each broken place allows more of Christ’s light to shine into the world if I allow Him to be Lord of the cracks. If I stop trying to conceal them, patch them, cover them over, they can bring glory to God.  my heart just struggles with the willingness to surrender.

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