I remember holding my sweet son in my arms as a newborn baby. I don't remember if he loved to be held or if I just loved holding him. I think it was both. I remember singing to him, kissing his perfect cheeks, and I remember praying for him. I remember longing for the day to tell him about Jesus. "Let him know you soon, Lord." I've prayed it over and over again for both my kids. I know that a true relationship with my Lord and Savior will be the only thing that gives them hope and true peace in this rotten world. And, I've prayed for people to come into their lives to tell them this truth. Selfishly though, I have hoped that I could be there when the questions come.

Monday was a perfect example of this rotten world. I got caught up in myself. I fleshed out quite a bit. I was grumpy. I got anxious over a few things. I cried a bit over feeling inadequate.

Can I just say I hate days like that?

I fixed dinner, and was so overwhelmed with this frustration of my failures that I had to leave the kitchen without eating with my husband and kids.

I rushed to the master bedroom and shut the door. Somehow I ended up sitting in the shower. I thought about actually taking a shower. Usually that helps me shake off the tears, but this time I wanted to feel the tears on my face.

I struggled with my thoughts and prayed a great deal. I was determined not to leave that tiny bathroom until God showed up. Although, I did consider climbing out the window and leaving, but as I was about to make my escape I heard the kids outside the window. Back to the shower. I suppose He didn't want me to leave either. I just wanted Him to give me the grace to love on my kids for a few more hours - even though I didn't feel like it.

He did show up.

He gave me that peace that passes all understanding.

So, I went outside to watch the kids play for a few minutes. I told Dean-o that I was okay, and that he could go rest if he needed (he was up 'til the wee hours the night before).

It was almost bath time. Dean went to bed early.

Andrew was sitting on the floor. He looked up at me and asked my why Jesus had to die on the cross.

It wasn't eloquent like I imagined when he was a newborn in my arms. I fumbled quite a bit, and over explained myself more than I can express.

But, he listened. We actually talked about Salvation and the need for Christ's death for 45 minutes. It was both awkward and beautiful.

He didn't accept Christ as his personal Savior Monday, but I'm overjoyed y'all. I am actually about to boo hoo just thinking about it.

I will post more details of the conversation soon.

I just wanted to share an amazing story of God "showing up."

I really do have so much to tell about what He is doing in my life, but I'm just not the best at expressing these thoughts on paper or web.

Oh, and I also hate talking about Andrew and not my sweet Gracie girl. She is a gem, and I love that girl so much.

To me this post is just about how much God loves me, ya know?

He loves me so much, and I just don't get it, ya know?