I have loved you with an everlasting love;The enemy knows when we are most vulnerable.
I have drawn you with loving-kindness. Jeremiah 31:3b
And he hisses the lie into our ears when our guard is down, when we are so distracted that it is hard to tell where the words come from.
For me, it was during the second load of laundry in the midst of the third sick day of four children alternately sniffling, coughing, and toilet hugging. And diaper
As for me, I had been sick the day before, but hadn't rested for a moment. And now the new day had begun and husband was at work.
I had mopped, changed, read, cooked, wiped, loaded, unloaded, washed, dried, wiped, wiped, wiped. Bottoms and noses. It was 8:30 a.m.
And the lies began. When I found that the washer had done a trivial job cleaning Little Man's bedding of the mess from his diaper and I set it to rinse again, from over my shoulder a weight settled, and a hissing whisper came...
You are all alone! No one else cares about keeping things clean around here. You're the only one who ever gets stuck with these messes. Your day never ends.
And you are all alone.
The words repeated, over and over, until the aloneness turned into anger, and the drudgery turned into darkness, and the worry turned into weariness.
It was oppressive.
Anger at the situation itself and at my husband for not being here roiled around in my stomach and singed its' way up into my throat, and I began to react poorly to every cry of, Mama! that I heard, and every cough, and every sneeze, and every pitter-patter run to the toilet. And in my sin, even the mantra W.W.L.G.M.D.? didn't penetrate.
You are all alone.
And hot tears that refused to fall dangled from my eyelashes as I leaned over my daughter's miserable body and wiped the tears from her eyes and smelled the full diaper of the little man clinging to my leg and suddenly
truth words came.
And I smiled. Truly! Peace filled my heart and I raised my eyes heavenward, and whispered gratefully over my shoulder...
I am loved!
And I repeated it, aloud, over and over, during every act of service my family required, needed.
I am loved. I am loved. I am loved!
You see, the enemy of a mama's heart would have me believe that all I do here, in this small sphere of home, where the children and I are always together, is pointless. Because I'll do it all over again tomorrow, and the next day, and though there is a whispered, Thank you, Mama, as I wipe a brow or offer a drink or pull covers to chin, the rest of the day can seem so unloving.
But it's a big fat lie. Because
I am loved.
How do I know?
Because of his hand on my cheek when he's coaxing a smile. Because of the good fruit I see in my children because of my constant presence. Because of the pink. Because I have breath.
Because though I am unlovable, I am still His loved one.
And that is how I speak truth. Because a little man clinging to my legs is also love. I just need to remember that.As he says in Hosea:
"I will call them 'my people' who are not my people;
and I will call her 'my loved one' who is not my loved one,"and,
"It will happen that in the very place where it was said to them,
'You are not my people,'
they will be called 'sons of the living God.' " Romans 9:25-26