It's one of those days. Nothing about my circumstances points me to darkness, but the day feels dark. I can't do all the things, so I lash out. My to-do list feels like a losing game of Tetris, so I get angry at the people I love the most. I ask for a night with no kids, but it doesn't really turn out that way. I realize at about 8:00 that I completely forgot to take dinner to a family with a "Dad fell off the barn" injury. They went without dinner, and it's my fault. They're probably starving or eating PopTarts for dinner. I'm just mad, cranky, grumpy, out of sorts. It feels dark. Now, I'm mad at the Loverboy, and he doesn't know why. There is no why. He's doing all the things, too. He's doing more of the things than I'm doing, actually.
I call the Mom of the starving family. She assures me they did not starve. We laugh about it. Grace. The Loverboy tells me to leave the table and do some of the things. They will clean up. Grace. The littlest one tells me a story about school and his sweet teacher who points him daily to Jesus whether he knows she does or not. Grace. The middle one tells us how happy/sad it makes him when his friends take home "Back Pack" food on Friday...happy because they are happy to have food/sad because they wouldn't have food otherwise. Grace. The biggest one says "I'm sorry your night without kids didn't really work out". Grace.
It's all grace, every last little bit of it. Grace is the road home. Grace is what will bring the joy in the morning.