Sometimes Serving Joyfully Means You'll Just Pee Your Pants.

And I mean that in all seriousness.

The other day, I heard shrieks from the bathroom. It was number two screaming about "poop all over!" from number five. I rushed frantically into the bathroom to assess the situation. And, to my horror, there WAS poop. Everywhere. On my daughter Lily's pants, on her hands, and on the floor, and she sat on the white linoleum on her bottom, wide-eyed, with her legs and arms in the air, as to not touch anything with her diarrhea covered extremities.

I looked at Lily, our eight-year-old, and made a horrified mom face.

I looked at my diaper-less Evelynn, who is two, and my horrified mom face got even uglier and more contorted.

But then things took a turn for grosser. Evelynn looked at me and threw up all over the diarrhea covered floor. She was screaming, and obviously horrified at what was taking place.

And then, to add to the chaos, one of my daughters is terrified of throwing up. She can't stand the sound of another person throwing up, and the thought of her getting sick and throwing up sends her into a panic. We're working on that. But, for some reason, she came into the commotion to see what was going on, and now.... she was crying.

There was poop. There was throw up. There was screaming. There was crying. I felt like I had stepped out of my body and was watching a reality TV show or something.

And there I was. Hunched over in my yoga pants and hoodie, holding onto Evie, coaxing her through her vomit fest, reassuring her everything was A-okay, when I realized, (as I have many times in horrifying mommy moments such as this), that I had to make a choice. A choice to either start freaking out on my kids because of my own stress level, or laugh. Because the Proverb is true: A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit dries that bones.

I chose laughter. As I released the first bought of giggling, it quickly turned into a stomach muscle workout as my giggles evolved into a full-fledged belly laugh.

Lily was in weird yoga position covered in poop.

Evie had no diaper, and was covered in puke and diarrhea.

The floor was so colorfully decorated with shades of not-so-solid poo and vomit.

And there was vomit on my socks.

And I realized the hilariousness of my situation.

I laughed so hard, until I started shrieking.

Shrieking the words, "I peed my pants!"

I had personally just made the situation much, much worse.

Lily was begging me to help her, and Evie was so. mad.

I eventually regained my composure and put Evie into the bathtub where she would be confined for a moment so I could help her poo-covered, older sister.

I helped Lily, bathed Evie, mopped my floor, and all was well in the muthah-hood.

Just like that, things could have either gone very, very bad, or very, very good. And I've chosen the bad too many times to count. A child throws up, or makes a mess... because they're children... and I lose it because things aren't going my way. And now they've given me MORE work to do. Because I didn't already have enough already?! And I blame them for inconveniencing me.

And then I remember.

I remember that my Savior held nothing back when He loved me.

He held nothing back.

I choose to withhold my love from my children in the times that it would most impact their lives, because why? Of course they know that I love them when they are good and things are easy-breezey, but what about the times when things are smelly and ugly and messy?

He held nothing back, and he joyfully served mankind. He served mankind when we were smelly and ugly and messy.

This time, in this very messy and disgusting moment, God pulled me through it because I let Him. He was always willing, but I was insubordinate and stubborn. This time, I trusted Him with the outcome and obeyed. I joyfully served my children who needed their mama. Joyfully. It wasn't just because I had to clean up their mess and I did it without complaining and without a smile. The Lord changed my heart and I served my children with joy.

Not in my flesh, but in the power of His Spirit.

See, He's still joyfully serving and helping us.

I hope that one day, my daughters will remember their mama laughing over their messes, so they'll be able to laugh as they remember their childhood. Their childhood of learning how to joyfully serve each other by watching their parents.

Joyfully serving means that you may just pee your pants.