Beauty From These Ashes

There are days... actually... a LOT of days, when I say in this little head of mine, "I'm not qualified for this, God!" I look around at all of these lives that my husband and I have created, and I wonder if we are just being irresponsible... crazy... or just plane insane! But nothing really questioned me being qualified as a mother as much as the day that I tried to take my girls to see the ballet, The Nutcracker. Ugh... shudder. The Nutcracker used to remind me of Christmas and happy childhood memories: I couldn't wait to share those feeling with my daughters! Now, when I think of the ballet, I think of my own stupidity, and metal scraping on metal. (I will explain.)

Now, if I don't feel qualified to have six children, then there may be a slight possibility that I also feel that I may not be qualified to be the driver of a fifteen passenger van. I'm not sure if I would sell a huge passenger van to a sleep-deprived, lactating mother. But, regardless of those reservations, it's true: I drive a bus; an ice blue bus. Full of lots of loud small people. And on the day of The Nutcracker, we all dressed our best, piled into our huge blue van, and made our way to the city. And that's where the fun started. Lots of one way streets.... and parking garages. One does not even begin to understand the fun of driving a passenger van through a parking garage until one has experienced it. And I, my friends, have experienced it.

As I turned into the garage, there was a big yellow log of a sign dangling from the ceiling from two chains that read 6 FOOT CLEARANCE. And I proceeded to run directly into it. It smacked against the top of my windshield, and rolled all the way down the fourty-seven feet of my vehicle. My eyes were huge... like... BULGING out of my head. My mouth was open, making a gigantic, huge opening in my face so big that you could have shoved a football into. And I let out a loud, "HOLY CRAP!" (Don't judge.) AND......I kept driving, folks. I thought that sign was probably just to really warn ya. You know... give a good scare. And I proceeded to creep into the garage to find a parking spot. I made it about three feet and pulled up to a big metal beam hanging from the ceiling and stopped. I stared at it, just inches from my windshield. I dropped my pulsing head onto the steering wheel and just sat there for a minute. I was in trouble. Big trouble.

I put my van in park, got out of it, and went up to the car behind me to tell her that I was an idiot and that I thought I was stuck. She asked me if she should back up. I just shrugged my shoulders and threw my hands in the air and got back into my bus. I didn't care what SHE did! Duh! This was not about HER! I was STUCK! I got back into my van and realized that there was only on way out, and that was forward. And I began to panic. What kind of mother takes her six children out at eight in the morning and gets them all stuck in a parking garage!? MY type!!! I started to get a little weepy, then I put my big girl panties on, kept calm, and drove on.

I crept a few inches forward, and the antenna hit first. It bent backward, then snapped back into position. Okay, good. I made a it a few inches and only the antenna suffered. Maybe I'm clear. Yeah, no. As I proceeded forward, I heard the insanely loud scraping of metal all the way down the top of my van. And I wanted to die. I'm pretty sure I yelled out something... I don't remember what.... but I yelled. Then we cleared THAT beam. Common sense would tell one to take the first exit out of that place at the first opportunity. But I had to park. So we drove on. For three floors. Hitting every. single. beam. By the second floor, I knew I was just going to keep hitting the beams, and the slow, painful sound of metal scraping on the top of my van was getting unbearable, so I gunned it. It was like ripping off a bandaid: just get it over with. So instead of slowly, slowly creeping under the metal beams and hearing the painful scraping noise drag on and on, I was now speeding under them and hearing the noise go by much quicker.

I finally found a spot on the THIRD floor, parked, and got out with tears welling up in my eyes. (And I actually had makeup on that day. Go figure.) A woman who had been behind me parked in the spot beside me. I told her that I thought I had wrecked my van. She proceeded to tell me that She thought I lost some paint with that last beam because stuff was flying off the top of my vehicle. I covered my face in my hands and shook my head. This is very bad I thought.

I climbed up on the step so I could peek at the roof. And I couldn't believe what I saw. Covering the back two-thirds of my van was a thick layer of ice... and I saw NO damage. I wanted to drop to the floor on my knees and start singing the Hallelujah Chorus, but I resisted. I felt such relief.

But I still had to get out of there. Whatever I thought. I'll deal with that later. I dragged my kids and baby in a carrier through the city to the theater and sat through the ballet, which I could hardly focus on. Mainly because I had to come up with some crazy creative way to get my vehicle out of that tin can of a garage, and my four week old baby pooped through all of his clothes while I was nursing him.

My friends and I were brain storming and trying to think of some way to get out of there. Then, it hit me: I had to SHRINK my van! I had to let air our of the tires! A sweet friend and her daughter who were also there watching the ballet stayed with me and coached me with advice from her husband, and I released enough air out of the tires to hopefully get us out of there without a scratch. After my friend directed me as I back up out of my spot, she and her daughter hopped in the van to try to add extra weight to bring the van down even more. I was laughing nervously, and praying as we approached the first beam. We cleared it! And we cleared every beam on the way out except for one small scrape on the very back of my van on one beam. (This whole time, my seven year old was crouched down in a ball on the floor covering her ears. She was so nervous from the first time around...) I couldn't believe it. I was thrilled! Relieved! Rejoicing! Thank you, LORD!

My friend hopped out of the van, I drove on, and laughed all the way home. Never in my life did I ever dream I would have six children... own a fifteen passenger van... and get that van stuck in a parking garage.

My children will either talk about all of my stupid mommy moments one day and we'll all laugh, OR they'll talk about it therapy. I hope it's the first one.

I got home, took a long nap, then had to tell my husband what I did. He stared at me, then he said, "What else could you have done? I would have done the same thing." I love that man. I know that I am responsible for some of the gray hair on his head, but I know he loves me regardless of how much I stress him out. God knew what I needed when He put us together.

So, moms, if you ever look at yourself in the mirror and tell God, "I'm not qualified. I can't do this. Really, God." And you keep looking at yourself and wonder when the last time you had makeup on, or took a shower, or got dressed because you've been nursing a newborn baby all. night. long. and you're just not functioning like you're supposed to. He knows you're not qualified. Because He made you. He knows that you aren't qualified.... unless you do this in HIS strength.

He makes all things beautiful. And this mess that I am right now, I am certain He is bringing beauty from these ashes.