Well, I did it. I cried over spilt milk. Breast milk actually. Spilt all over the fridge. Let's just say Saturday was a rough day. It started out just fine; I attended Saturday school with Jemimah while Josh was able to spend some quality time at home with the boy. When I got home we were planning on rushing out the door again to run errands. We had A LOT to do that day. Everything got put on hold though when I came home and saw pools of white in the fridge. And because the husband and I got into an argument about it. Kind of a big argument that involved saying things we didn't mean, blaming one another, and (me) playing the victim. We hadn't had an argument like that in years. We had turned something small into something monumental. We hadn't believed the best about each other and we hadn't remembered that we were supposed to be one, and on the same team, as God has called us. We forgave each other and found forgiveness in the Lord as well. And after it got resolved we laughed about its origins. Milk. Really? Well, I'm thankful for forgiveness that's for sure. And, I'm thankful that God has a way of slowing us down and working on our hearts. Even if it means spilling our milk.
"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other, as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive."