I have that kid. The one who sneaks chocolate out of the cabinet and hides the wrappers at the bottom of her closet. The one who relentlessly harasses her sisters day-in and day-out. The one who spontaneously disappears when it’s chore time. The one who doesn’t understand why my “no” is really “no” — always trying to plead her case — just one more time! And the one who has fun challenging me whenever she can — merely for the fun of the fight.

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Most days, as her mom, I’m doing my best to hang on — and hang in there. There are battles I choose to lose because I’m honestly too tired to fight them all, and on some especially hard days, I feel like I’m just plain ole losing.

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Many nights, tears roll down my cheeks after tucking her into bed as I think about all the moments throughout the day I failed her and chose to give into my frustration — instead of giving into God’s grace. How often — too often — do I cave into my flesh — instead of pressing into God’s Spirit for patience?

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And then there are those nights when the day’s battleground has been fierce and my bones are left tired and weary. When all I can do after tucking her into bed is kneel beside her doorway – and pray..Sometimes, I even asked through tears, “God, can you hear me?”.It’s in these moments of coming to the absolute end of myself that I must choose to trust and surrender to God. When I choose to pause and listen for His voice, my sweet Father always draws me near and shows me that, indeed, He does hear.

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The small pauses of life are where I can slow down long enough to actually see God’s miracles and answered prayers. Often, it’s in the mundane tasks of life that God chooses to unveil the profound.

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And that’s how it happened for us. During the mundane – that daily chore of cleaning up after supper – is when God ordained our miracle to begin. He allowed a miracle despite my many flaws and not getting this mothering-thing “just right.” Despite the daily struggles and wondering if I am really ushering my children towards Jesus – or away from Him. Despite the tantrums (both theirs and mine) and all the many struggles in between.

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The miracle began when my daughter – that kid who spends the majority of her days in trouble and makes my heart ache wondering if we’ll make it through – walked into the kitchen and stood beside me as I scrubbed pancake batter and sticky maple syrup off the countertops. She waited quietly for me to stop and look up..When my eyes met hers, she asked, ”Mama, how do you ask Jesus into your heart?”

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Shocked by her question, I stared at her through my own sleepy eyes. Honestly, that question was the last question I’d imagined her asking, especially after the hard day we’d experienced together. That day, many tears had been shed..And yet, here in our midst, was this lingering question – the one I had hoped would one day come. At it was happening over a countertop filled with splatters of pancake batter and sticky syrup.

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I put my dirty rag down and smiled at her as I explained, ”Sweetie, all you have to do is make the choice to invite Jesus into your heart. You simply pray and ask Him to come live inside of you forever. It’s that easy.”.Her sweet grin – the one missing two top teeth – beamed back at me, and a new stirring inside had softened her blue eyes as she hugged me tight..Then she turned and skipped away..I went back to the mundane and continued cleaning the kitchen and reminding all the kids to get ready for bed..As I walked into the bedroom to tuck my girls in bed, a little hand grabbed mine and a soft voice asked, “Mama, can I talk to you . . . alone?”

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“Of course, honey,” I said as we walked hand-in-hand to my bedroom. Sitting on the small couch at the end of my bed, my daughter told me, “Mama, I want to ask Jesus in my heart, but I don’t know how to do it. He’s been knocking at my heart, and I want to let Him in. Can you help me?”.My heart filled with joy as I explained to her what to say to Jesus – just like I had done earlier. And she then prayed and made the most important decision of her life.

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After “amen,” peace radiated from her face. And that grin – the one missing two top teeth – was back wide across her cheeks. “Thank you, Mama, for helping me. I’m sorry I’ve given you such a hard time today.”.“It’s forgiven, sweetie. Jesus forgives. And Mama forgives. Can you forgive me for getting so frustrated?” She nodded as she squeezed her tiny arms around my neck. As she hugged me, I whispered in her ear, “Welcome to Jesus’s family.”.We walked back to her bedroom to tuck her into bed, just like I do every night, but this time, I could sense a shift in her spirit. I knew things were different. Tears again filled my eyes, but now, the tears were of joy.

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Reflecting back on that night, I realize these big-deal-type moments never present themselves when my brain is rested and clear. Nor do they come when I’m fully prepared to give a profound or theological answer. No — these big-deal-type moments seem to sneak their way into the crazy and mundane moments of life — those moments where I choose to pause and simply allow myself to be used by Jesus. I used to believe that in order to accomplish great things for God’s kingdom, I needed to hustle harder for big goals. But now, Jesus is sweetly teaching me that great work often comes through tiny moments of simply being available to Him.

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Mamas, keep on pausing and making time to pour Jesus into your children. Don’t give up! Even if you think they aren’t listening, keep on teaching them His ways.

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Amazingly, our kids hear much more than we think they do. All those little things we do to invest in their lives really do add up because we never really know when that unexpected moment will come — when a tiny hand will grab your hand — and a little voice will ask, “Mama, will you teach me how to ask Jesus in my heart?”

Love, Macki