Sometimes God uses the words our kids speak to relay an important message to us.

If we’re listening, sometimes we can hear more than just what’s being said in the natural. If we’re truly listening, sometimes we can hear the quiet assurance, direction, comfort or even correction that he’s whispering to us.

For me it was that last one.

This morning when I woke up I was reminded of what went down last night. And it wasn’t pretty. The heavy, sticky feeling of regret still clinging to me.

What is my problem? Why do I keep doing this? Stuffing. Exploding. Stuffing Exploding. It might as well be written on the back of my shampoo bottle. Rinse & repeat.

I’m not even really sure what set me off last night. All I know is I was done. I was done picking up leaky, sticky popsicle wrappers that had stained my white coffee table their purple hue. I was done carrying laundry downstairs to be washed, then upstairs to be folded, and then up another flight of stairs to be put away. I was done pleading with my children to please, please take their belongings off the stairs so that I could carry their clean folded laundry upstairs for them without tripping or impaling my foot on a sharp object.  All without a word of recognition or thanks mind you. I was just altogether done with anyone needing absolutely anything from me. 

That’s when I exploded, spewing “ugly” all over the place. All over my family.

And then I went to bed.

Feeling yucky. Feeling regret. Feeling like a failure.

When I woke the next morning my husband was gone (who could blame him?) and my son Levi crawled into bed with me. He told me that he had talked with his brother and sister and they had decided from now on they were going to pick up whatever they got out and clean up after themselves. Well of course they were!  They didn’t want to see their mom flip her lid like that ever again!  I had officially scared them straight. I apologized in a deep raspy tone for losing my cool. The sound of my voice cued him in that my throat was hurting me again and so he asked if he could pray for me.

It was short, sweet and right to the point.  “Dear Jesus, be with mommy. Help heal her throat because it hurts her. Make it all better. And heal her sick heart too. Make that all better too. Amen.”

He was right. My throat wasn’t the only thing that needed healing.

My heart was sick too.

The thing that was so discouraging to me was that I had just finished reading “Unglued” by Lysa Terkuerst. If you haven’t read it yet, I must recommend it. It’s my favorite kind of book. You know the kind. The one where one minute you’re laughing hysterically (seriously, for me it was out loud in the bathtub) and the next you kinda feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like “Whoa, that just got REAL!” I think that’s what happens when truth shines its light in our dark, hard to reach places. It sometimes catches us off guard.

So of course after finishing the book I thought I had mastered the art of NOT coming unglued. But man, do those raw emotions come out of nowhere and ravage everything in their sight.

I enjoyed the book so much I had thought about doing a life group on it this fall. Had thought. Past tense. Because regret is often times followed by a cloud. A large dark ominous cloud that hangs smack dab in front of our judgement. It cuts us off from reality. And if we’re not careful, the decisions we make in the wake of regret, when we can’t see past the offending cloud, can continue the cycle of regret. A vicious cycle of rinse & repeat all over again.

In the dark cloud stage these are my thoughts. “What makes you think you can lead a small group on this when you obviously haven’t figured it out yourself  yet?!!” “You’re not a good mom. A good mom wouldn’t lose her cool like that with her kids.” “You’re a failure as a mom.” “You’re a failure as a wife.” “In fact, you’re just one big fat ugly failure!” Okay, so maybe that last one is a bit of a stretch. BUT…if you’re a woman and you’re reading this, then you know what I’m talking about. It’s not really that far off base. We start at point A and then after regret & loss of judgement set in, we somehow arrive at point H. The only problem is the “Regret & Loss of Judgement Train” takes us down the wrong tracks. We think these crazy thoughts because we are still plagued by our regret and we haven’t waited for the storm clouds to disperse. We haven’t spent time with the only one who can cause those storm clouds to keep on rolling by thus revealing the beautiful calm that comes after. And it’s there, in the after, that we can make decisions based on sound judgement.

The clear sky stage is where my thoughts go something more like this: “Yes, I came unglued last night. I had a bad night but that does not make me a bad mom.” “Yes, I still have a long way to go in this area but I am slowly making progress.” “I believe that with God’s help this is an area I will get better at.” And, “Yes, I can still run a small group on this topic without having mastered it yet.” After all, just think of all the great “life experience” stories I’ll have to share with the ladies.

I realized as my son was praying for me and for my heart that I have a choice. I always have a choice.  It doesn’t always feel like it. But I do.

I have the choice to let my emotions & my mind jump on board the train that leads me to Crazy Town. Or…I have the choice to let that train go by and instead wait for the next one. I can take some time and find a quiet place and work through those raw emotions with a God who sees and understands and wants to bring me clarity.

The minute I heard my son use the words heart and sick together I felt the Holy Spirit whisper his kind correction to me. Nudging me toward him. Toward the only one who can truly heal my sick heart.

Today if you are feeling the sticky residue of regret clinging to you, I encourage you to let that first train go by.  Don’t let regret rob you of your sound judgement. Grab a bench and sit down. You can always catch the next one. Don’t be quick to make decisions and assertions about yourself that aren’t based in truth. Wait and hear what God has to say about it. You might be surprised by the answer you get. We can trust that what he says about us is true. Wait for the dark clouds to pass and ask for a new perspective. Apply the grace he’s given to us. Rinse & repeat.