It’s a shame when you try to rehabilitate a reputation. I’ve been trying to rehabilitate Monday’s reputation for years, but sometimes, well, Monday lives up to what people have been saying about it since before I was born, more often than not unmerited.
It’s not true, about Monday, you know.
Monday is not the problem; Satan showing up on Monday’s is the problem.
One Monday, not so very long ago, started off so hope full. Monday was the kick-off to a week of well-planned pacing of good things to do – and I was excited about doing them and keeping chaos at a minimum (Eye-roll here. . . . dawning realization that when I plan to minimize/exclude chaos I somehow manage to empowering chaos).
Before 7 a.m. into Monday, Satan had thrown down a chaos-swirling challenge that God’s miracles, vigilance and grace picked up and set aright.
I am so glad God is ready for all the challenges that come 24/7, even before 7 a.m., even on Mondays. Looking back, I can see a spirit of edginess, wariness had stuck itself to me.
If you’re a mom, maybe you understand why 7 a.m. seems to be such a sticking point here. Since becoming a mom over 34 years ago, sleeping past 7 a.m. is a rare luxury. When my youngest graduated from high school this year, being by nature a night owl, I had high hopes of “sleeping in” every so often, even if “sleeping in” meant just 7 a.m.
Tuesday tried competing with its sister Monday with a 6 a.m. knock on our bedroom door. One of our sons, living at home and going to college, felt mighty achy, fevery and wiped out. A 7 a.m. doctor visit came up with Strep. He hadn’t had that since he was a baby.
With Tuesday came a last-minute change of plans that included a business trip to Detroit.
I felt challenged, in need of a refreshing, needing the chaos to settle down. Where was the grace, the peace, the smoothness that comes with faith. . . because faith isn’t bothered by the bumps. . . Right? Grace covers the soul jarring of challenges. . . Right? Hope ignores anxiety. . . Right?. . .Right?
Three days in Detroit without cooking for my hungry young men between their college classes, without straightening messes that keep remaking themselves, without facing hands-off challenges that won’t iron out under my will and determination. . . I still found myself on edge, irritated. I tried to vintage the blessings He leaves in the daily – and I found the cool, northern sunshine. I found the most amazing oysters, I found Lake Eerie, but I couldn’t find peace, the bumps still jarred.
Irritation, uninvited, lingered as I woke up to home this morning. The challenges at the weeks’ beginning were in the past – and I needed to look forward, not backward. But I still couldn’t shake Monday and Tuesday’s discomfort.
God wanted me to vintage something, and God’s determination can sometimes feel soul-abrasive until I find what He wants me to find – and that means facing Him, telling Him I’m missing it, I’m struggling, and I need help. I hadn’t realized there was something I needed to redeem from Monday until I talked to Him about how I was feeling – apparently surviving Monday wasn’t what Monday’s challenges were all about.
“I was there, ready for the challenge, ready with the miracle, ready with the grace before you even went to bed. I was there long before 6 a.m. I came to save, not with ‘why-so-early-grumps,’ but with a bigger love than you know, a bigger generosity than you realize. . . . be prepared between the gloaming and sunrise to love those I give you with a bigger love and bigger generosity. Don’t be tight-fisted with your time, don’t keep it just for you, for your comfort. . . know me better so you can be more like me, even before 7 a.m., even when there are other things you think you’d rather be doing” – that’s what God was trying to say to me.
These challenges this week, they tested me. While my son needed a white-count examination on Tuesday, I needed a soul examination (Psalm 26:2). My heart needed to be cleansed of anxiousness born of fear and a begrudging spirit hoarding my time and energy selfishly. I needed an attitude adjustment (Psalm 51:10).
My Father, He didn’t lecture me first. He showed me Monday how to live with a generosity of spirit. Then watched me try to love that way before 7 a.m. Tuesday. Then He waited for me to ask Him to explain, and He did: Love my way – open-handed, not tight-fisted, not on a schedule, love big even when you think it’s inconvenient and you’re wrestling with the “I’d rathers.”
Bumps. . . jarring. . . anxiety. . . faith doesn’t take those things away. Faith gives us grace and hope, peace and gentleness, love and long-suffering, confidence that He works at all things to good – even on a Monday morning that’s acting like a tiger caught hold of its own tail.
“We can all draw close to him with the veil removed from our faces. And with no veil we all become like mirrors who brightly reflect the glory of the Lord Jesus. We are being transfigured into his very image as we move from one brighter level of glory to another. And this glorious transfiguration comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” ~ 2 Cor. 3:18.
The irony? Here I kept accusing Monday of needing a reputation rehabilitation, when it was my soul that needed to change!
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