I am not sure why I call this an "hour" because really what I am about to discuss refers to a series of hours: beginning about an hour before dinner and ending with blissful bedtime. Moms of toddlers know this time well. It is the period of time where your two-year-old is starting to melt down(as does her mother), while simultaneously becoming hyper. "I'm-hungry-I'm-tired-I'm-bored-I-want-this-I-want-that-NOW-MOMMY-Oops-I-wanna-help(usually referring to the chopping of dinner components with a VERY sharp knife or wanting to be dangerously close to very hot things)" is the song of this so-called hour and it is a loud one. I am thinking of moving my quiet times to 3:45 just to armor-up for this particularly nerve-busting period of time. My poor husband walks in the door after a harrowing commute to find his frazzled wife and wired toddler warring over putting extra salt in the recipe and digging vegetable scraps out of the trash. Around this same time, my poor sweet newborn (Can I still say that? I guess 5 weeks snuck up on me!) starts his colicky rant, wants to eat, and is begging me to protect him from Annie, who tries to comfort him by giving him the sweetest kisses and hugs. Unfortunately, she tries to bring his head to her mouth without paying any consideration to the location of the rest of his body and often steadies herself by putting all of her weight on one hand located right in the middle of his mushy tummy, which is probably hurting (hence the colic). She also has been known to occlude his airways with her long, drawn out kisses. (Details...)
When I think about this particular period of time, a set of verses comes to mind.
"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace, in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the sands..." -Ephesians 5:10-18
Yes, this verse may seem a bit dramatic for the plight of the witching hour, but really, I think it's quite appropriate. After all, it is so easy to think that since I am not actually fighting in a physical war and I live in a country where I am free to worship as I please and I'm not wondering if my children will have food today that I don't need a verse as strong as this one. This is where I think we fall into our sin. When my day consists of just trying to get through with two kids under the age of two, the breastplate is made of nursing pads and as for my loins... well I'm just hoping they don't fall out while I'm trying to get my pre-baby body back. An actual helmet seems like a good idea as I am dodging a thrown golf-ball and digging macaroni and cheese out of my hair. In all seriousness though, the small and insignificant things of this life (like too much salt making it into the dinner you've precariously prepared to try and reward your husband for all he's done) can become much larger than they ought to and, in a struggle to control what can't be tamed, we sin to make it happen or we sin when it doesn't happen. See, it is not excusable to lose my cool with a two-year-old when she is climbing on the table and throwing her food at the dog because I am thirty years old. Not two. When I approach this circus-of-a-time with scripture in my mind, how much more patient could I be? And who knows, maybe I could even make it fun! Maybe dinner isn't perfectly seasoned, but it makes for a great memory to look back and laugh about having to triple my recipe because 3 tablespoons of basil made it into the sauce while my back was turned. I need to value quality time spent with my kids as they learn and grow more than I value looking like a good cook, having a clean house and being exactly on time. Just something to chew on...
PS- thanks to all of you who provided delicious and nutritious meals for me and my family over the last month. You have really made dinner time a much more pleasant experience for us during this transition and that is priceless!
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