perfect? hardly. real? I think so.

I had a super hard conversation with a friend today, a friend who I love very much, even though she thinks I hate her. At the end of the conversation, I was really made to feel bad. We had talked about sins and it was brought up that she had seen me hit Moose in the head with a coloring book and call him an idiot. I don't remember the incident directly but I don't doubt it one bit.

To be perfectly honest and to lay it all out there, parenting has brought out the worst in me. To be fair, it's also brought out the best in me. I've never felt happier. And I've never felt angrier. It's like it brought out my bipolar side. My children are safe but they are not always cuddled. My children are happy but they are disciplined. I think it's safe to say marriage has brought out those best/worst sides as well. I don't yell at anyone quite as well as I yell at Big A. I also don't treat anyone quite as sweetly as I treat him. 


I believe it's completely safe to say that I'm not perfect. In fact, of all my friends, I'm probably the least perfect. I have some pretty-close-to-perfect friends - or seemingly! I am a sinner day in and day out. I probably sin in my sleep - I know I did when my kids were really young (just ask Big A). I wish it weren't so. I wish I could claim to be so Christlike it wasn't even funny. I wish I could claim I'm calm as a cucumber all the time, never green with envy, never jealous, never vain, having never said a boast. But I'm trying to be honest, not dig myself another pit of sin. 


I know my sins aren't pretty. Sometimes they are downright hellish and ugly. There are moments when you wouldn't know I'm a Christian! There are moments when you probably wouldn't think I know God at all. Some of those moments happen only in my mind. Sometimes I vocalize them. My poor family could bear testimony of my faults. I see it in my son's temper. I see it in my sons' complaints. I see it in their faces when I yell at them in my anger. I see it. Please don't think I don't see it. Not always at first. Sometimes it takes a few prayers and a few sermons and a few reruns of a sin for me to see it. But the Holy Spirit is faithful in calling me out. 


And it hurts. Today may be one of those days. I had a discussion on Facebook about 50 Shades of Grey and a few people put in their two cents. I said I wasn't going to read this book because I felt it wasn't right for me, my marriage, or my faith. It's not. I'll be honest, I want to read the book. I want to see what the hullabaloo is about. I don't think anyone's wrong in their curiosity of this popular series. But I know it's not what God wants me to read. Not saying I always read the right things, but I try to listen when prompted. I ended up at the end of that discussion feeling very Pharisee-like. 


Which is also how I feel today. Like a Pharisee. Like I don't know my sins. I've been praying for the Lord to open my eyes so I can repent. I want nothing to do with sin. I don't want to sin. Like Paul says, I do what I don't want to do. I sin over and over and over and over. Again, my boys bear the brunt of that. I think most kids and husbands or wives do. Or anyone you are in close contact with. 


So really I just want to lay it out there that if I ever look like I'm holding it together, I'm not (not that I think I have to worry about that, I think I seem frazzled most of the time). Trust me. I'm a mess. I am a huge mess held together with the Duct tape of grace. Nothing but Christ's wonderful, amazing, undeserved grace.