Today I am 6 days past my due date.
Brandon and I were up all night changing out sheets and washing towels and comforting our 3 year old as his little body tried to rid itself of the stomach bug.
I was all caught up on laundry. The floors and bathrooms were clean. I was so ready for the baby. Now I’m starting over and hoping baby comes just a little later.
I’m wearing dirty yoga pants and a maternity shirt that doesn’t quite cover this huge belly. No makeup. My hair is all crazy. I made coffee and only had time to drink half of it. I just finished mopping throw up off the floor again.
There are no blogworthy photos today of grinning children, crafty home décor, or fashionable outfits.
But these are the days of glory.
It’s here in the dirty, tired, oh-so-human days where nothing seems right that the one thing that is right victoriously waves its banner over me.
It’s the banner of a King who built a kingdom on love and defined love as death and sacrifice. It’s the banner of a King who stepped off his throne to enter into dirty, tired, oh-so-human days and overcome them. It’s the banner of a King who died for love and was resurrected in power.
He waves his banner of love over a kingdom of people who are dying and sacrificing and finding that when you go to the cross with Jesus you also come alive with Jesus.
It’s the banner that my mom waved over me every time she gave up her dreams to do the dishes one more time, change one more dirty diaper, and get up in the middle of the night to comfort one more child.
It’s the banner that my dad waved over me every time he got up to his morning alarm to go to work one more day to watch his paychecks disappear into bills and grocery money for children who complained and argued with him far too often.
It’s the banner that my husband waves over me every time he sees me on the bad days--when I'm snapping at him and my children, giving up on cleaning my house, and looking far from beautiful—and then chooses to come home to me every night and love me anyways.
Every time they sacrificed, the banner of love waved over me and my heart heard, “You are worth it--worth it not because of what you do or what you can do for me, but worth it because Jesus said so on the cross.
On days like today—in the messy, not quite right days where you can’t have it all or do it all—the banner of love flies so high. It flies even higher than the pile of laundry I should be folding right now. These are the days and moments of glory where I know that Jesus loved me through sacrifice and because of that I can look into my sweet children’s eyes and choose to love them with the sacrifice of the cross and the power of the resurrection.