And quite frankly it is no use crying under spilled milk either.
I wish I could blame the milk all over the ceiling, wall, cupboard, brick facade, floor, furniture…on my rambunctious boys. Or maybe a tantrum thrown by my adorable (and willful) 2-year-old.
But, this milk, this tantrum was all mine. A 32-year old throwing a tantrum.
Many out there that know me personally are probably looking quizzically at the computer screen…”Danielle, throwing a tantrum. She never gets mad.” Most people have never seen me mad. They couldn’t even picture me having a tantrum.
But my husband can.
Tell me. What is it about this person who is our God-given provision, our perfect match, the one we bind ourselves to for life that can drive us absolutely mad? What is it about marriage that makes two perfectly sound-minded, respectably behaving people act like tantrum-throwing toddlers to each other?
Why can the person meant for our best bring out our worst?
I honestly don’t remember what we were discussing over breakfast that morning. I don’t want to think too hard about it either. I’d rather not remember.
I do remember my husband’s temper flaring. I saw a flash of his old self. It was met by a flash of my old self.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:17
The tears were not for the milk. The tears were not from hurt. Maybe they were a bit from anger, but mostly, they were remorse. How could we act like this just one day after celebrating the Resurrection of Christ? We say we are in Christ. We are new creations. So why do we fall back to the old? I thought the old was gone?
You know why?
So we keep running back to the cross. So we remember just how lost we are on our own. Just how badly we need a Savior.
We just need to get out from under the spilled milk and get back in Christ.
On my knees, I wiped up milk. On my knees, I asked God to forgive me…once again.
Weeks later, I’ve done my best to scrub that milk splatter off my ceiling, however a smudge still remains.
I see it every time I walk in my kitchen, but you know what? It keeps me looking up…to Him.
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