It was one of those days of parenting. Two out of three kids woke up too early. There was crankiness. There were diaper changes at inconvenient times and toys strewn about the floor. Crumbs piled up around the kitchen table.

It was time for some fresh air, so I took the kids on a walk. Soon, everyone was in a better mood!

We made it home and then right in the driveway, Sadie fell and skinned her knees. There was blood and plenty of tears. While I was kissing boo boos and putting bandages on knobby little knees, Niva had escaped our fence. Dakota was on our bed crying, Sadie was crying, and it was Mordecai’s nap time. I felt stretched in every direction! We made it through the crying-bandage-nap preparations and a kind neighbor brought Niva back.

Fast forward a few hours past school lessons, laundry, and doling out snacks. It was dinner time. Jimmy was home from work! In the afternoon, I had chopped vegetables, cooked, and prepared a warm meal for us all to sit down to.

As soon as we sat down to eat, Dakota wanted to breastfeed. I settled in for another one-handed dinner. One of the kids left the table, climbed on our broken garbage can (the lid keeps falling off!) to reach graham crackers in an upper cabinet and knocked the garbage down. Since the lid was broken, everything inside spilled out. What was inside? A set of acrylic paint from a craft set the kids used that afternoon, among other trash like eggshells and coffee grounds.

I scrambled to pass the (now crying) Dakota to Jimmy while I picked up garbage all over the floor and frantically scrubbed away acrylic paint where it had splatted on the floor, stove, cabinet, and garbage can. I stayed quiet and didn’t erupt in anger, but in my head, I was so frustrated. Thoughts like this played in a loop: So much for a warm dinner! Why did this child climb on the garbage? Why was the garbage can broken? Why couldn’t I eat one meal without being interrupted? 

I’m a little embarrassed to admit those selfish, impatient thoughts. A lot of parenting comes down to patience. When the toddler runs away when it’s time for a diaper change, when the school lesson drags on due to a loss of focus, when the kids don’t feel the urgency that we’re late for a doctor’s appointment and they won’t stop playing right.this.second to put their shoes on.

Every day, I pray for patience. Why? It’s not just a good-to-have character trait, it’s a command of God in scripture.

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:1-3

Just trying to be more patient doesn’t work. Every day, I try and absolutely fail to be perfectly patient with the perfectly imperfect people in my life. We grow in patience by meditating on God’s patience with us.

Throughout the Bible, Jesus so perfectly modeled patience. During His ministry He was regularly interrupted (see Matthew 14:13-14) and people would often track him down as he traveled because they wanted his wisdom and blessings.

I often wonder if He was ever just tired. If He just wanted a break. If He wanted some alone time. If he wanted to eat a meal without being interrupted, perhaps? Instead, Jesus’s attitude was that of perfect patience with each interruption. Why? Because he saw these interruptions–of people asking for healing or miracles or questions–as divine opportunities to love those around Him.

The inconveniences of motherhood aren’t just stressful interruptions in my days, they are opportunities to love my children and grow in the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). Nothing surprises God. The spilled paint, the runaway dog, the cold dinner, the early wakeup times, the diaper blowouts, the crying kids. He is aware of it all.

God knows all and is in control, and I can rest in that fact when my days don’t go to plan. My worth isn’t found in a neat house, perfectly obedient kids (or pets…), or a day that runs smoothly. When I focus too much on that, I become increasingly impatient and frustrated. The unplanned problems–the fussy baby, the skinned knees right at nap time, the child feeling guilty over spilling trash–those are divine opportunities to stop my planned out day and love my kids. I never want to be so rigid with neatness or schedules that I miss every chance I have to stop and tend to and love on my kids. These are opportunities from God. These are the children He so richly blessed me with to love and raise for Him while they’re on this earth.

God calls us to be patient because He has been ever so patient with us (2 Peter 3:9). When we sin over and over again, God is lovingly patient with us. He does not cross his arms and shake his head when we mess up. He isn’t frowning and tapping His toe impatiently when we aren’t performing in life at lightning speed. Because He is patient with us, we can be patient with others.

Instead of viewing daily interruptions as inconveniences, I am looking to view them as chances throughout my day to trust God’s timing and love my children. Am I perfect at this? No. But God is patient with me 🤍