Staying at home with your kids will break you.
Let me tell you why parents who stay home with their kids all day are about to blow a fuse every night . . .
And it’s not that you didn’t know responsibility before kids, and it’s not that you don’t have it if you don’t stay home with them. If you’re a parent, it’s always there.
It’s just when you’re home with them all day, you notice everything.
You notice every hurt. And every want and every need.
And you feel as if you’re solely carrying the responsibility of protecting and nourishing and teaching and disciplining and discipling your kids from dawn until help arrives.
And it about breaks us.
There’s no slipping out for long.
There’s no shifting our thoughts to something else and forgetting about where they are or what they’re doing for a moment.
They are what’s most pressing.
They are our most important audience and the most valuable gifts we’ve been given.
Keeping them safe seems simple enough. Unless your kids are fearless and too little to know better. So, you’re constantly on your toes.
And raising them up to know the love of Jesus can get a little tricky when you feel frustrated and stuck at home. And when they refuse to listen or corporate and you lose your cool.
Even feeding them is a struggle when someone doesn’t like meat sandwiches and someone doesn’t want mayo (today) and the baby will only eat chips for lunch.
And the tears fall at bedtime when you think of all your shortcomings and wonder why in the world God saw it fit to give you this much responsibility.
Then you hear Him whisper:
My child, I am your strength.
I carry them and I carry you.
Come close to me.
I’ll take your load.
I’ll hold together the broken pieces. My light will shine through.
You are not the only one here with your kids all day. I am here, too.
We’ve heard responsibility comes when much has been given, and we’ve been given so very much.
We have blessings all around us.
We have our families, and we have Jesus.
It always comes back to needing saving. And knowing our Savior.
Each day, I pray . . .
Help me, Jesus.