Thank Goodness Snow Isn't Really a Biblical Theme

There are many days in the life of a mostly-stay-at-home mom that are challenging. 

Do I even need to describe them?

Full of selfish behavior, selective eaters, indecisive dressers, and fight-pickers.

And that is just me.

And there are the other days when I feel like I am the luckiest person alive and this whole mostly-stay-at-home mom gig is the best ticket in town.

I'm so thankful B loves his job and its many perks. For example: eating out. Today he has breakfast and two (2!) lunches on the calendar. That is some serious eating.

And this is on the heels of happy hour, a fancy schmancy steak dinner, and breakfast and lunch out yesterday.

There is obviously lots of hard work, tough days, and less-than-pleasant people he comes across. But I don't hear B complaining that his lot for the forseeable future is to wake up, head out the door and you know, Sell Stuff.

But my days are far more cluttered with various activities including, but never limited to: cleaning up entire grape slushes from the far reaches of the 'Burb, folding laundry (or at least "doing" laundry...the folding is questionable), and policing bike etiquette and related injuries from the front lawn.

(I'm seriously considering purchasing an orange, vintage "Safety Patrol" belt/sash.)

But back to today.

It's been great.

It's 2:13.

And it's only going to get better.

After picking up Jackson from school, a friend offered to let the cherubs hang out at her house while I went for a quick run.

I literally got teary as I watched them pedal down the street together, lunch boxes dangling from their bikes.

I've dreamed about their independence for SO INCREDIBLY LONG but now that it's here? I'm crying. And wishing that for a few moments (or seconds) they would be fat, immobile infants again.

Jackson wanted Lilly to ride ahead so he could help her if anything happened. Precious. The wind blew Lilly's ponytail to the side while Jackson casually pedaled backwards and shouted encouragement to his sister.

They turned the corner, riding uphill to see friends and I headed out the door for my run.

The solitude of running is always incomparable, but today it was extra-amazing.

As I left the house, the wind was blowing, the sky was grey, and teeny raindrops were occasionally falling. Probably just a handful of jagged splatters per sidewalk square.

I debated sneaking back in for a mug of hot chocolate and a long shower, but then thought of a late-afternoon lunch date and book group tonight (and look at me! I read the book!), then decided that the calorie-burn combined with the mental relaxation factor was too strong.

I grabbed my iPod and without scrolling through my playlists, I hit play, ready to hear whatever randomness awaited.

And let me tell you, God is in the small things.

It was the most divinely orchestrated playlist I've heard.

Once my iPod switches on, I usually roll my thumb around to a workout playlist full of 80's rock or some up-tempo worship.

But not today.

Perfect rainy-day songs kept me running just to hear what God had next. None of the music quickened my feet, but the mellow worship made my heart race and reflect on the one who brings the rain.

Sandwiched in the middle of the run were four songs that talked about "letting mercy rain." As the actual rain intensified, I let the full meaning of that word picture fall on me. (Sorry. Had to.)

To see mercy and to actually feel mercy are completely different. 

It was powerful to picture each raindrop (which were growing significantly in size and number at this point) as a literal, tactile reminders of God's many mercies in my life.

This wasn't the general mercies I've read about in the Word.

This was the Creator who reigns in heaven, causing rainfall that actually landed on my skin.

Despite the fact that the sky never downpoured and thunder failed to sound, by the end of the run I was soaking.

Covered in mercy.

Tired, wet, and joyful.

Somehow I think that's exactly what He had in mind when I went out for a run today.

And then back around the corner rode two of the sweetest mercies my life will ever know.

"You're the overflow,

You're the fountain of my heart,

So let your mercy rain,

let your mercy rain on us.

You're the Faithful One,

When the world's falling apart,

So let your mercy rain,

let your mercy rain on us."

--Chris Tomlin, "Let Your Mercy Rain"