He can.

I’m pretty sure I haven’t written on my hand since High School. Why would I ? I don’t need reminders anymore. Nope. I have it all in my head .

Sometimes I like to lie to myself. It’s cruel, and I really should have a daily planner that I carry around in my diaper bag that I have. Does a diaper bag consist of throwing several diapers in my mini van? Ok good.

But today was different. For some reason I wrote a reminder on my hand to get Asher a can of his favorite veggies for his class soup.

Favorite veggies. I’m still laughing. His favorite veggie is whatever one doesn’t make him gag as he is eating dinner. Bless my child, but he gags more than a pregnant woman cleaning a toilet bowl does.

As soon as I wrote it on my hand I laughed. Literally out loud at myself.

CAN.

Rachel. Why don’t you put a reminder in your phone, or write it on a sticky note. I knew that I would forgot where I put any note, or loose my phone so my hand was my best bet. Hopefully I wouldn’t misplace my hand, but I’m never so sure.

” Take a picture of your hand.”

Ok Lord. Oh great. What’s going to happen today?

“I’m good.”

I know but my stomach hurts today. I’m tired. Adah got up 17 hundred times to nurse and I can’t with Asher’s attitude towards me today. I wish he would listen to me like he does his teacher.

I can’t . I can’t . I can’t.

Throughout my day I found myself looking down at my hand.

Can.

What are you trying to show me Lord?

After dinner Asher decided it would be ok to get dessert without asking me. I had just finished crying at the dinner table with Matt about some breathing issues. I was tired and feeling sorry for myself. Self pity is so inviting and it’s stays until it isn’t welcome.

I heard him climbing the cabinets and getting a cookie. I jumped up from the dinner table and lashed out at him:

” what are you doing!? Did you ASK me if you could have a cookie?!”

I wasn’t really that mad he didn’t ask. But I was mad at myself . I was mad at the fact that I was physically weak and I didn’t know why. I wanted answers. I chose fear and anxiety yet again.

He ran into the living room. With good reason. I just yelled and I hardly ever yell. I hurt his feelings. He had finished his dinner and then some, and I’m sure he was proud to have earned his dessert.

Standing in the kitchen feeling like the worst Mother ever, I looked down at my hand. Can.

He can fix this. He can teach me how to love Asher effectively. He can teach me how to apologize to my 5 year old. He can redeem this for his glory.

I found him on the sofa crying. I scooped him up into my arms and we both cried. It’s important for me for my children to see that I have feelings too. That I make mistakes, and that even Mom has to ask for forgiveness.

I rocked him back and forth and let him cry , while I joined in with a flood of tears. I apologized for yelling and he forgave me. Aren’t kids amazingly forgiving ? What if adults were this gracious with one another?

He requested a book before bed time , so I went upstairs to find one. I noticed his room was a mess with PJ’s all over the floor. I stood there for a minute. Mostly because no one followed me up there. I was alone and it was quiet.

I sat on the floor on a rug and started praying aloud. I had about 2 minutes before I was found and someone needed something, so I took advantage of this oasis. I’m forever throwing away tiny toys that Adah could put in her mouth and I spotted one in the corner of the room.

I crawled over to the toy and noticed a relief in my stomach pain on all fours . I suddenly saw myself at 39 weeks pregnant with Adah. Trying to turn a breech baby head down. I felt a rush of the anxiety I felt trying to turn her, as I was in such a familiar position. I looked down at my hand again.

Can.

He did deliver her safe. She is healthy. She is thriving.

Then he can heal my stomach issues. My Breathing issues.

He just can.

What I cannot do on my own, he “can”.