Just kidding. That's not the truth.
The truth is people call me supermom and wonderwoman, and I'm neither.
The truth is I am a pathetic whiny failure who makes too many mistakes to be called good in any way.. and I'm a baby.
The truth is when I say my house is a disaster, it really is. Few can compare.
The truth is everyone said the first year of having twins was the hardest, and in reality it has only gotten harder.
The truth is the twins have the speech development of 18month olds, and when I stop holding on to peace, other things rush in. Things like discouragement, defeat, disbelief, anger, guilt, and envy.
The truth is I sometimes compare them to their older siblings and get so irritated with them I want to quit.
The truth is I have five beautiful children but my favorite part of the day is when the twins take their nap and go to bed at night.
The truth is shame has a yearly pass to my heart.
The truth is I struggled today. It wasn't so different from any other day, but I guess I didn't have all my armor on. There were moments of happiness, of course. But overall I have to give the day a D+. I had a lot of selfish thoughts, I had a lot of times where I wanted to sneak out the back door and hide from them. I yelled too much. The twins had speech therapy today, and it's a struggle just to get them there. The therapist only sees one twin at a time. I have to pack up for a few hours outside the house, bring all five kids 30 minutes to the therapist, drop off one twin, take the other four children somewhere to pass an hour, change diapers on the floor of the car, pass snacks out, fill drinks, endure screaming and whining from Levi or a twin, and then go back to switch the twins, then do it again for another hour, before driving 30 minutes back home. Later today I caught myself just staring at the twins, as they grunted and whined and cried one of their favorite words, "peese, peese! peeeeese, (sob sob) peese! (sob cry scream) peheheheheeese!...etc". They were angry that the tv wasn't on a show they like, but they didn't say that, I just know that's what they meant. I stared at them, in a daze, unable to understand why they are the way they are, why they can't just ask for me to change the channel like any other almost-three-year old. I just stared, unintentionally ignoring them, wondering how I got kids like this.
To end the day with a bang, I did something stupid--I tried a new recipe for dinner. And just so you know, all my kids hate slow-cooked barbecue chicken breast. Dinner melted into a chaotic mess for bathtime, and their bedtime just could not come soon enough.
That's the ugly truth. Today was hard.
The whole truth is a joyful heart is the good medicine I needed today. If I had looked up at all I may have remembered that. A broken spirit dries up the bones. I couldn't get out of my funk today because I gave in to the broken spirit that pulled at me. I let it seep in. I was Artax. I let the sadness of the swamp get to me. (If you don't know that reference, for shame. Don't admit to it.) And all I got for it was more brokenness, more defeat, and more depressed.
The whole truth is that while I can't be patient and kind and positive for my family all the time, there is someone that can, and He gives me access to all of that power all day, all night.
The whole truth is that while I'm being beaten down, as Satan uses my own children to make me question everything about my abilities as their mother, I know better.
The whole truth is I know I'm already forgiven for my failures. And so the words for tonight, for my soul as I wrap my wounds from today's battles, is Romans 8:31-32. Perhaps these words are for your soul as well, as you carry your own heavy heart for your own heavy burdens:
God's honest truth is always going to better than yours. And when things start to look down, look up.