Ever had an ugly day? If you’re like me, it’s hard to admit when you do. These are not my pretty days. They are the kind of days when Seth lifts an eyebrow at me and says, “You okay,” as he backs slowly out of the room taking the children with him.
It’s a tired, unreasonable, picking fights with the hubs over nothing kind-of-day. Nothing anyone can say is right, your kids are acting like holy terrors and each ungrateful one has to be to their own specific activity all in completely different locations. You are stressed by this because you have already forgotten one baseball practice this week and you didn’t remember to pick up your child at Cross Country. Then the text of shame comes:
“Mom? Mom? You coming to get me?”
You come home every night to a dinner that has to be fixed and a house that looks like it has been robbed and ransacked. You and the husband try to work together, but you are outnumbered by the three children.
One child beckons, “Mom, I need help in Math.”
Another chimes, ” Dad, I have a science project due.”
And then the youngest wails, “You don’t like me because you make me eat vegetaaaaaaables!”
By now even the dog is demanding your attention, barking to come in from the backyard. With your super sonic hearing in a house of five people, you happen to be the only one who can hear her. Imagine that! You beg someone to let her in and feed her but it appears that no one else realizes that it takes food to keep her alive.
As you slam your finger in the kitchen drawer while unloading the dishwasher, your life feels like a five ton weight is sitting on your chest. If you could, you would just go into the street and scream. Shouting in the street however would make the neighbors talk about you, so you resort to making a mountain out of a molehill inside the house, because irrational outbursts somehow make you feel better. “Am I the only one who can pick up a towel around here?!” Dramatic, frantic, emphasis on ONLY and ONE., knowing full-well you have never been the only one in 15 years to pick up a towel.
It’s just what I like to call an ugly, Ghiradelli chocolate caramel squares, on top of your jalapeno cheddar Whataburger, biggie fries and large Coke, with a side of heartburn, kind-of-day.
Are you feeling me?
There is a real formal prayer I pray on days like this. It’s full of all sorts of deep theology and flowery words for a bad day. When I am at my wits end and frustrated beyond measure. When I am striking out more than I am making contact, I stop and pray The Ugly Day Prayer. It goes something like this.
God. Help. Me.
Did you miss it? There it is. You can add a “Dear” at the beginning and an “Amen” at the end if it makes it sound better to you. But that’s it. That’s all I need. God, please help a sinner like me. This initial bowing of my will says, “I can’t do this on my own.” It is the catalyst to my attitude adjustment from Someone whose ways are higher than mine.
God. Help. Me.
14 Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. 15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. 16 Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:14-16
God. Help Me.
Sometimes we find that the simplest of cries carry the most weight. When we are honest with our carnal state we free ourselves to be completely dependent on the source of all our strength. Being there for us is at the very center behind the reason for all God has done for us. God wants to help His kids and He is just waiting for us to ask! Even on our ugly days, God is there. What a friend. What a Savior! An ever present help in our time of need.