
As I sat there in the pew, I began to think about what had caused the dents in my shield. The times I tried to live my life on my terms and had ignored red flags placed to warn me of wrong decisions being made.
Being a mom has added dents to the shield multiple times in the last three years. I rush through the day sending up pleas and pleading prayers when things got challenging with my strong willed son instead of leaning on God’s promises or even taking time to listen to the answers to them.
During three year old tantrums, I feel my stomach knot up and I try to remain calm. The outward appearance of calm isn’t usually carried inside to the tense feeling I get when I want to handle them with grace and words that I don’t what to come back to haunt me.
I am going to be making a considerable effort to take the time to work on my faith in the coming weeks. Raising a three year old is hard. There are many more dents that will be appearing in my shield in the future. I do hope that I can hold fast to want I believe. A three year old or life in general can wear you down and lead you make decisions that you wish you hadn’t in moment of frustration or doubt.
When I look back at each of the dents in my shield, I don’t want to cling to the frustrations or failures that they might represent. I do want to look at them and see how God looked out for me and carried me through them.























