This post is part of 31 Days of Everyday Grace series. You can see all the posts here.
My throat ached and my eyes drooped. Sickness set in on our family like a thief in the night. With the lack of sleep and changing seasons, my immune system plummeted and there was no escaping the evil cold complete with sore throat and achy bones.
My oldest was enthralled in a movie with Daddy. I looked at the clock and calculated that I had fifteen minutes before my littlest needed to eat. I could squeeze in a nice epsom salt bath to soothe my muscles and detox from the sickness. I told my husband my plans and he agreed, so I headed up the stairs giddy for a few minutes alone.
As the first snow of the season fluttered down outside, the hot water steamed the bathroom and the smell of eucalyptus and peppermint filled the room. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and cracked open my book.
That’s when I heard a little voice.
Mommy? I take a bath with you?
My sweet, innocent toddler, nose pressed hard, stares through the glass at me. How can this be? I only wanted fifteen minutes to bathe in peace. Where’s Daddy? With a sigh, I try to explain my desire to bathe alone, but the explanation falls on deaf ears.
Instead, toddler boys becomes worried that I have no toys. With great excitement, he bursts from the room and returns with his beloved construction truck, snow shovel, and monster truck. He perches on the toilet, feet dangling, and smiles. His face beams with pride that Mommy gets to share his toys. He has given his best to me to enjoy.
My mom comes into the room to coax Sam back downstairs, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She offers a drink. Make the best of the situation? But alas, she returns not with a drink, but a crying babe eager to nourish his body in his mothers arms. Mom undresses my infant and hands him to me – I trade my book for a baby.
As I nurse, my toddler begins to dance. He has to potty. I ask him to go tell someone else (other than me!) that he needs to pee-pee. Yet in his excitement to pamper me with love, he returns with twenty G.I. Joes. As he pees in the floor, I sit in the bath with more men than I ever dreamed could fit. But I was wrong. One more would soon join.
When my husband makes his way upstairs, he stares with sad eyes at the scene. There are no words, and the bonds of marriage strain against the desire to serve and grace to grow into a family of four. He takes Timmy from my arms and I turn the jets on in the tub.
I lean back and rest in God’s grace for the moment – my family. This is His sovereign will.
I finish my bath listening to my toddler laugh at the bubbles surrounding him and our pretend game of spilled milk – the irony. I laugh at the unexpected interruption, the divine intervention, the opportunity to love my children, sacrifice my time, and give grace to my husband.
The days of interrupted baths will soon be gone, and instead all I will have are the memories.
So today I smile in the goodness of God’s amazing grace.
Grace to smile when things don’t go my way.
Grace to laugh when my bath is interrupted by little hands and feet eager to be with Mommy.
Grace to relax among the chaos.
Grace to see the grace.