Hormones

Quote from daughter number 3 on a particularly tough day, "I told them I have hormones, and they didn't even CARE!"

Hormones are raging at my house, and it's not just me. I have 2 teenagers who have leveled off and are mostly delightful. But I have 3 pre-teens who are each and all a huge mess. And I, myself, am a mess. Together, well, there is a good amount of screaming, crying, and flat out despair. We are all more vulnerable to those particular fabrications of the enemy that creep up mostly when we are tired. As my 4th daughter used to say, "nobody's mad at me".

I'm reaping what I'm sowing, of course. Me. I am one big fat example of not self control. And I do mean fat. Sugar free chocolate is not my friend. Instead of creatively digging into the goodness God has provided in healthy veggies and proteins, my carb craving machine is all fired up and I'm out of control. My attitude is lousy.

I don't know if I've ever felt uglier. My rosacea is pretty bad. Make up helps, but not enough to make me want to do it every day. It just makes me look like a covered up bumpy mess instead of a red angry bumpy mess. I am the proud owner of some very expensive night serum, which I put on when I remember, day or night. But even if it would really work I'm not consistent enough to really fix it. I'm too lazy to wear contacts every day, and my glasses are bent and scratched.

I have often thought I am the biggest loser and the duggars rolled into one, but what I really need is an extreme makeover and clean sweep episode as well.

So in the midst of all this vomitous suckiness, I had my little devotional set at the house of prayer today. 2 sometimes wonderful hours with me, Jesus, a piano, a microphone and a handful of people coming in and out. And for a few significant moments, it was just me and Him. And, incredibly, as it turns out, He still really loves me and likes me and wants to be with me and is pleased with me and isn't firing me and wants me to try again and promises to help me. Isn't that just unbelievable?!

So somehow, tomorrow morning, I hope to convey some of that wonderful, matchless grace of Jesus (sing it if you know it ... "deeper than the mighty rolling sea") to all the other walking hormones. And perhaps, by that matchless grace, we'll all survive the week.