A Broken Call for Help

“I lift my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2

The baby was crying. The toddler was making a mess of flour in the kitchen. My dear 10-year-old son was complaining about Saxon Math 6/5 lesson 45, and my 8-year-old was missing somewhere in the house while her blank schoolwork lay on the table.

I hurriedly tried to finish putting the dishes away while yelling my daughter’s name, grabbing the flour from the toddler, and find a pacifier. If you could picture a mom with seven arms, this would be one of the moments.

In my hurried, ruffled, unfocused state, a large mason jar flew almost slow-motion from my hands and shattering across the entire kitchen tile floor. The whole house was silent for 1.7 seconds. I started to scream my battle cry: “EVERYONE! Out of the kitchen! Go get your shoes on. No, not that way! You will step all over the glass!”

It was a mix between a scene from Looney Tunes and Black Hawk Down as I scrambled getting the children out of the glass-covered floor. Once they were all safe (my 8-year-old happened to appear in this moment magically), I grabbed my cleanup gear and stared at the mess.

And I started to weep.

I looked down at the floor wondering how am I going to get through this day? How am I going to clean up this mess?

“I lift my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2

This particular piece of David’s psalm of ascent gives us a question but also provides an answer. Where are we to lift our eyes? Where are we to get our help? The Lord. The Maker of heaven and earth.

How pivotal as I look down at these broken pieces. In my moment of despair as a mother, I don’t need to look at the mess, but instead, I need to look up at the Maker of the very atoms that make up the broken pieces. Only He can make something so broken whole again. Even in the mess of life He sees us as beautiful.