Sunday, April 15, 2012
When I went to check on him later, he looked so peaceful, so still, so perfect. And that is when the waves of guilt washed over me. I wanted to hold him, to say "I'm sorry," to tell him it will all be alright. I wanted to whisper in his ear that even when we disagree, it doesn't change my love for him. For a moment I imagined what life would be like if something happened to him, and the grief was so strong that I had to stop the thought before it even finished.
So he sleeps soundly, and the scene re-plays itself over and over in my mind.
"You're a bad mom!" I hear.
"You are so impatient with him!" I cringe.
"You are going to scar him for life!" I want to run and hide.
My thoughts are my own worst enemy. This mommy-guilt... it is overpowering, it cripples, it blinds. If I let it, it will destroy me.
And so I have a decision to make - to wallow in the guilt that only mother's know, or choose to accept God's grace for me. I decide to receive the grace, and for a few moments I let it wash over me. It feels cold and uncomfortable. This grace is something so hard to receive that I try to reject it, and let the thoughts overtake me once again. Yet He keeps pouring it out, over and over. I fight it, then it comes again. I fight it, it comes again. And again, and again...His grace.. until I am sound asleep.
Tomorrow is new.