For those of you who know me (which is probably all of you because I'm not sure who else would read our blog), you know that I can tend to be a somewhat emotional person on a good day. I blame my mom, who bursts into tears anytime I even mention her grandchild-to-be's name. But I digress . . .
Add in my pregnancy hormones, and I tend to be what I would describe as "slightly" irrational in my emotional levels. For instance, the other day I decided to mop the floor (this decision was not the result of any desire to clean but rather as a desire not to be embarrassed by the muddy pawprints all over the new hardwoods when friends came over later that day). After what felt much like running a marathon (although it was really just running a mop over a not-so-large floor) I collapsed on the couch in exhaustion to enjoy the fruits of my labor.
Just moments later, the dogs ran back across the gleaming hardwoods, leaving muddy prints all over. I burst into tears; or rather, loud ugly sobs. It was hopeless, just HOPELESS. What was the point of cleaning the floors? In fact, what was the point of doing anything at all? Clearly, I was a complete and utter failure . . .
Eventually, I was able to pull myself together and cheer up by watching about 8 episodes of the House marathon (although I cried at some point in every one) and watching my Bulldogs win (particularly THIS part cheered me up)
Anyhow, that evening during my quiet time I stumbled across this verse: “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalm 56:8 What a beautiful, amazing promise! God cares about every single one of my tears, even those irrational crazy pregnant ones. And you know what? That makes things seem a whole lot less hopeless after all!