A dusty, dusty day.
I am a firm believer that we were all created uniquely and as such we have have a special story to share with others. Our newest contributing blogger, Jackie McCobb, is no exception. While she could easily be the mom that you connect to at your local MOPS group, her local group of moms is practically a world away from us here in the United States. In fact she has been exploring the world since she was 8 months old with her missionary parents! Traveling experiences are just one of the things that drew me to Jackie (did you know I have visited every continent except Australia and Antartica?) I am fascinated to hear what life is like for a mother living in another country. I believe Jackie’s broad bank of experiences and love for Jesus will be deposited directly into our hearts and we will all be the richer for it.
Hola! My name is Jackie McCobb and my family and I live in the wonderful country of Paraguay. We are church planting missionaries and have lived here for 6 years. We absolutely love it! I have three sweet little girls, each one born in a different country, we have moved around a lot. I have many stories to tell about all of my globe-trotting (I grew up in the Amazon jungle of Venezuela, for example) so hang around and let’s get to know each other.
I’ve been wracking my brain all day trying to thing about what to write here for my first post. Heather, who is a sweet as pie, told me I could write whatever I wanted. Should I write about how to be frugal in South America? (Hint: It includes eating a lot of bean recipes.) Should I write about the challenges and joys of homeschooling overseas? Should I write about the books I’m currently reading? I couldn’t decide.
I finally decided to be very real with you all.
Today was looooong and icky. It was not my finest day as a mother.
My children ate chocolate boxed cereal for breakfast, chocolate bunnies for snack, ice cream, lemon bars, and lollipops.
I overcooked the spaghetti for dinner.
We barely made it through school with the first grader and when the preschooler excitedly asked to do her school I quickly shut her down and sent her out of the room.
The toddler was grumpy, I spent way too much time on Facebook, did not read my Bible today and finally, finally got a shower.
The children watched about five Pixar movies.
The pile of dishes in the sink is huge and it’s gonna stay that way.
I was feeling pretty down about myself. I know better than this. Why did I let myself sleep in? Days seem to go horribly wrong when I sleep in. Why don’t I make time to exercise? No wonder I’m pouting! Why don’t I make and freeze a bunch of muffins so I’m not feeding my kids sugar for breakfast? And on and on and on…and then I remembered why.
I’m dust.
Psalm 103:14 says “For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.”
God gets it. He knows why I fall flat on my face every day. I’m dust.
How is this so comforting? I’ll tell you why…we don’t expect much to happen with dust and dirt. It’s messy and can sometimes be quite a pain.
But isn’t comforting when we remember that God knows this? He is not expecting BIG things from us. He is not expecting perfection. He knows me. He knows I’m just dust.But dust and dirt can help things grow. And in all of my messiness today, God in His mercy and grace took it, transformed it and helped my children grow.Tomorrow is another day and it may be just as “dusty,” but I will keep trying to do my best, not because I could ever be good enough, but because He is good.I will end with this with a true story a missionary friend told me.A missionary family had just arrived in the USA from their foreign field of work. They were attending their first church meeting and were so excited because it would be in English! The four year old son of the missionary was sitting next to his mother quietly. The pastor of the church got up to pray and said, “Lord, we thank you for your Holiness. We thank you for saving us. We are so grateful to know that You remember that we are but dust….” and at that the four year old son of the missionary said, in a very loud voice, “Mommy…WHAT is BUTT DUST???”
Ah, missionary kids. You gotta love ‘em!