With Puke In My Hair, I Hold My Head High

Ingredient one. I am spending the night with my two year old boy who began throwing up just an hour before bedtime. I have a sheet out on his floor, a pile of towels next to us, and some ginger ale on the night stand. I'm ready for the over night camp out. My poor baby is scared of the puke bucket and keeps trying to run away from throwing up (thus making the sheet on the floor the only clean fabric in the room) and when his stomach contents does come up he claps his hands over his mouth and desperately tries to swallow it back down. The only way I can get him to relax enough to let his body do its thing is if I'm hugging him and whispering in his ear. Which means that my back and hair has turned into the catch-all.

Ingredient two: My ten month old baby spontaneously starts waking up every couple of hours and it's always on the hour that my two year old has finally fallen asleep.

Ingredient three: I'm severely nauseous and wondering if my two year old and I have the same thing.

Ingredient four: Night two, the two year old hasn't thrown up all day and is in bed. Ten month old just threw up all over his crib, and I'm settling into a second night of puke patrol while running to the bathroom for myself.

Final recipe:
So now it is 11 am and I am sitting on the couch curled into a ball. I'm in my jammies and I can't get away from the smell of puke. Every jostle and movement makes my stomach cramp. My headache begs me to close my eyes. Both boys are still a little off and crying at my ankles wanting their very specific needs and desires taken care of. As I'm about to burst into tears I am suddenly reminded of a chapter I read months ago in Made to Crave. It is chapter 5 "Made for More." Lysa talks about her own confidence and self worth. To put it simply she felt like a loser and broken person in life (sinful sexual history, abandonment issues, etc.) and being a slave to food was just a part of that. She then had a revelation and writes about her true identity in Christ and records a list of her new labels (53):

Lysa, the holy child of God. (1 Corinthians 1:30)
Lysa, the made-new child of God. (2 Corinthians 5:17)
Lysa, the loved child of God. ( Ephesians 2:13)
Lysa, the confident child of God. (Ephesians 3:12)
Lysa, the victorious child of God. (Romans 8:37)

There are more to that list, but I think you get the point. She used that list to help set her free from a wrong identity of weakness and foolishness. When she discovered all that it meant to be a child of God she knew that being a slave to food just didn't jive anymore. But that's not why I bring up this chapter now. At the time I read that I didn't associate well with it. As a healthy confident person, I didn't feel the need for an ego-boost. I knew I was special as a child of God. But as I sat on the couch wondering where I could find more "mommy juice," a voice whispered in my ear, "This is not what a child of God looks like, Erin. Stand up. Be confident. Be victorious."

The day didn't end up all peachy keen, but it did get better. Every time I felt justified to have a break down and yell really loudly I was encouraged to stay confident. To stay victorious. Because I am a child of God. He gave me this job of motherhood with confidence, and as His daughter, and as His princess, He gave me the power to do it well.