I have never seen my husband jump out of bed so fast–we had already checked on our three sleeping babies, turned off reading lamps, tucked covers around them.  We had brushed our teeth and put on pjs.  I was just climbing into the bed beside Mark who was laying on his stomach reading a text, in his boxers (because that’s what males call pjs, right?) when he smacked his back and jumped out of bed and into the corner of the room–somehow in one motion of jumping he also turned our bedroom light on to the brightest setting.

What’s wrong? I questioned

Something just bit me!

Now, before I continue the story, I’ll let you in on a bit of a secret–my man does not like insects.  He will rid the house of a spider for me if I ask him, but in general, I probably kill more bugs than he does. Let’s be very clear that my man is a man — he is strong, a defender, he can lift every piece of furniture my little heart desires, & he makes chopping 35 year old tree roots with an axe look easy.  But, he’d prefer not to spend time around insects, particularly when he is donned in his undies.

It wasn’t long before we saw the bug that had nipped Mark — it was black and resembled a hornet–definitely not trustworthy in Mark’s book.  And, of course, we couldn’t go to sleep or turn down the lights until we rid the room of this unwelcome intruder.  Mark spent much of the next 15 minutes flailing pillows at the bug, as I worked to control the stomach cramps I was getting from laughing. His work to get the bug was erratic and made little progress. I finally came up with the plan to trap the bug by attracting it to one particular light and frying his bug guts. When the bug was dead, and the flailing had stopped, Mark said something we now quote to each other regularly.

I’m proud of how I handled that situation.

That smug and sarcastic comment was followed by at least five minutes of me laughing.  He and I both knew that he had behaved like a crazy man and made for a great story, but nothing about those moments were proud ones.

The phrase has become a joke around our house when we really botch something.  It is a funny joke, but the reality is there are so many situations in my day that my response is the equivalent of flailing around with pillows in my underwear in the spiritual realm.

Mark responds to me in a way other than what I had imagined and I get hurt, and then I let my brain toss it around for the next few hours, compounding the offense–flailing pillows

Beckett wakes up with a goopy nose and full cough, and my initial thoughts have pity party written all over them–flailing pillows.

Charlotte interrupts me early in the morning when I am spending time in the Word, and in a huff I carry her back up to her room–flailing pillows in my undies.

I would like to actually walk away from these interruptions, unmet expectations, and disappointments and be able to say to myself, I’m proud of how I handled that without any sarcasm in my tone.  Not because I can then walk around puffed up, but because that would mean I handled it the way my Father God has been training me–I handled it with an attitude of gratitude, the truth of the Word, and a deep love for people around me that covers their shortcomings.

Mommas, our enemy is real.  He is sneaky and deceitful; the Bible tells us he prowls around looking for who he may devour (or distract). Ready and waiting to jump out and nip at us just enough to get us flailing our pillows around, accomplishing nothing to resolve the issue and accomplishing nothing for kingdom purposes.

What is it that nips at you, what is it that gets you huffy or your brain reeling in offense? Gird yourself up with the Word & by the Holy Spirit at work in you, next time, walk away saying, I’m proud of how I handled that.