Tonight I had a great prayer group, and walked into my house at 7:00 feeling so grateful and blessed and "filled up" I couldn't wait to see my family. As I walked toward the bathroom where Rod was already doing baths I was met by 2 crying children, and by Rod's face I knew it hadn't been a good evening. We said a quick hello, he gave me a summary of what had gone wrong since they got home, and then headed out the door to a meeting. The evening did not go smoothly for me, either. Evan did not recover from having to get out of the tub and after crying (yelling) for 30 straight mintues it took me an hour and a half to get him down. Brooke & Paige got in trouble for fighting in bed, loudly, just as Evan was almost asleep only 35 minutes into my trying. I was short with Loren several times as she tried to tell me about her day because she's the one least in need of my attention, or so I tell myself. As I sit here now it hits me - how fragile my gratitude and joy are. How little it takes for my high to disappear. Shame on me. My trials are nothing, and I should know that better than most because I have the honor of watching some amazing parents walk their paths every day. What if God got frustrated with me that easily? I ask more of him than these beautiful children ever ask of me. What an honor he has given me, to raise these 4 beautiful children while on this earth, and how selfishly I resent it sometimes. So once again I will go to bed praying for help and promising to do better tomorrow. And because they are so much closer to God than I am, my children will greet me with a hug in the morning and once again give me another chance with no strings attached. So who's teaching who? I think I'll go kiss them good night.