Red nails and dark chocolate
Yesterday there was a big event: I got my nails painted! These claws haven’t been tended to since wayyyyy before lockdown, and the Ladd boys all know that Mom is a better person when her nails are painted. (They prefer classic red.) While I walked Lifa to school yesterday, I told him, “You may wonder who that extremely fancy and beautiful woman is when you walk outside of school this afternoon. It’s me! It’s just your mom with painted nails!” So much tweenage judgment.
Not only have my nails not been painted, but I have not been anywhere other than a couple of quick errands without Benjamin in a long, long, long, long time. When Chris cleared a few hours in his week so I could get my nails painted, I started a household countdown of how many sleeps until Mom’s nails were painted. When I arrived at the nail salon, they told me there was a special. Instead of just getting polish put on, I could get the whole mani/pani deluxe treatment for the same price. Sweet Jesus, Hallelujah! Every time the sweet woman touched a pressure point, I cried. I cried for every reason and for no reason at all. I was emptier than I realized and really tired. Today on Thankful Thursday for the South African Help Club for Moms, I was preaching to myself.
I talked about how a mom is a facilitator of joy for her children and family, Just like an airline passenger has to secure her own oxygen before her child’s in an emergency, a mama has got to secure her own joy and strength in the Lord before she can sustain her children. I keep “mom chocolate” in the diaper bag. It’s 99% cocoa, so everyone else thinks it taste like tree bark - which means it’s safe from intruding snackers! If I’m going to facilitate joy for my children, family and household, I need a little extra for myself. Sometimes a little square of dark chocolate on the go is the perfect reminder that says, “Hey, this treat is just for you. And you’re worth it!”
Mom or not, joy is a promise through an intimate relationship with God AND a personal responsibility. If you are a parent and your children only came to you when they were in a crisis, you’d save them. They would be alive, but they would not be healthy. They would not be living from glory to glory but from emergency to emergency.
If you only run to your Heavenly Father in an emergency, He will open His arms to you. But you will be missing out on the ins and outs of a daily, joy-filled, abundant life. That’s what Jesus really died for. Choose one way to remind yourself that joy is reachable - red nails, dark chocolate, a piece of strawberry gum, or a walk around the block. Whatever is your joy, seize it!