The first light of dawn peaked into my bedroom window as angry cries filled the house. Squeezing my eyes shut, I braced myself. It was the sound of another long day starting. It’s too early for this. It is way too early for this, I screamed internally into the abyss. It had been a week of snot, puke, tears, and sleepless nights. I didn’t have anything left to give.
“God? Can you please, please make them go back to sleep and stop crying?” I desperately begged. “I am so tired. I can’t do this yet, I just need another half hour, please.”
My youngest was still crying in her room.
“God! Please! I know you aren’t a genie in a bottle that I can demand things of, but please see me. I am exhausted. I don’t think I can do this.”
Crying reverberated through the house.
“I know I am probably at the bottom of your list, and I don’t deserve you to answer this whiny prayer, but please. I feel alone and tired and unheard. Do you care? I’m hanging on by a thread!”
A tear slid down my face as my feet slid out from under my warm covers, I shoved my toes into furry slippers and padded over to my 2-year-old’s room. I mustered up what little energy I had and pushed open the door to gather her into my arms.
“Morning, baby. Mommy’s here, sweet girl, it’s okay.”
She kept crying as I tried to soothe her. I swallowed the thick swell of dread that climbed into my throat. I had no choice but to face the day ahead. I slowly changed my daughter out of her pajamas and then threw on a sweater and leggings—the same outfit I had worn the day before.
“Mommmyyy!!” A worried voice came across the hall, “ I want to get up too!” And out ran my sleepy eyed 4-year-old.
The morning passed in a blur of crying, soothing, cuddling, and exhaustion. The weariness I had started my day with grew heavier. God felt a million miles away from my mess, and I felt like I deserved it. I had barely gone out of my way to pray or be in His word the past few months. Why would God worry about me right now when I had put so little effort into a relationship with Him? I deserved to feel far from Him.
Finally, the house fell silent. I peaked my head around the corner to see my two kids contently looking at books. Not knowing how long the silence would last I started to make a quick cup of tea and send a check-in text to my husband, who was at work. I picked up my phone and the screen came to life.
On it, I noticed an unread text I must have missed in the chaos. It was from a mom who had been in my Bible study the year before. She had teenagers and was in a completely different season of life. My eyebrows raised in surprise. She wasn’t someone I texted often, so to get a random text on a Tuesday morning was unusual.
“You were on my mind this morning. Lifting you up in prayer just because. I hope your beautiful family is doing amazing.” That was all it read, but it was all I needed. Hot tears streamed down my face.
I sent a quick text pouring out my heart and struggle to her. Here was a mom who had been in the trenches as I was, she saw me, she recognized the struggle and exhaustion, and she reminded me that it was normal to feel weary when you are in this season with littles.
But more importantly, I was reminded that He saw me. He heard me. He cares.
God sees me. Always. Even when I don’t feel it. Even though I don’t deserve God’s love, could never deserve it (even if I spent hours in prayer and reading the Bible), He still loves me.
He went out of his way to show me that He sees me. My weak human heart needed a reminder that I was seen by him, and He sent it while also reminding me I was not alone.
by Jennifer Toscano 
by Rachel Weidner 
