I was at the intersection of I had no cares left to give and a mental breakdown, when I decided that it would be a good time to color my hair (brilliant, right?). Both my children were awake, I had been snowed in for the past few days, I’d cleaned up countless messes, disciplined the same child for the same transgression multiple times, cried, screamed a little, but I had one hope on the horizon: it was almost the weekend and the Calvary was coming.

My husband is a lineman and the intense snowstorms that were sweeping the nation had camped at our backdoor and he had been in and out for the past several weeks in the chilling cold, turning peoples power back on. He had been called out to work before our date, which we had had planned for weeks and I was so looking forward to getting a little break from being “mom.” I was determined that THIS date would not be canceled. Why? Because I needed it, really, really badly and I knew that God knew how badly and that He wouldn’t let me down.

I was squeezing colorant onto my hair, with my two year old crawling up my leg and my four year-old twirling in one of my summer dresses when my phone rang. I crinkled up my instructions to peak at the screen.

It was my husband; my heart froze.

I couldn’t get my gloves off fast enough to click the green answer button, so I madly smudged my phone, trying to get it to answer. I heard an apologetic and “walking-on-egg-shells” kind of voice on the other end.

“Hey, I was just about to head home when we got called on another storm.”

“I’m sorry.”

I could feel a screaming obscenity creeping up my throat. Words rushed through my mind: It’s not fair, this can’t be right, I don’t care who’s out of power, surely they can find someone else who doesn’t have a wife at home with two small children who is about to loose it!

I had let a tirade like this rain down on my husband’s head in the past, but something pulled me up short this time and I swallowed the bitter words. Instead, I managed to squeak out my husbands go to phrase for situations like this: “it is, what it is,” before we said goodbye and I ended the call.

In that moment, I felt the words pry into my smoldering soul, words I didn’t necessarily want to hear:

“I’ve not called you a victim.”

Ouch.

I knew that voice. It’s the voice that not only calms my storms, but also calls me out onto the water of them, not allowing me to stay safely in the boat. Although, I didn’t want my carefully guarded heart to be looked at, there was a need deeper than that for self-preservation: the need to want to feel victorious, joyful, peaceful, and my usual easy going self again. I was really tired of hating motherhood and feeling like I was slowly being pushed into the cold, frozen ground by the weight of it all. My mindset wasn’t healthy and I knew it.

So I let His truth, eclipse my present reality. The truths found in Deuteronomy 28 flooded my mind: I am the head; I’m not the tail, I am above; I am not beneath. I am not a victim; I’m a victor. It may seem overly simplistic and a bit cheesy, but this revelation changed everything about my perception.

I am not a victim of my children; I am the one at the helm who is in charge of my household and I set the thermostat for peace. I am not a victim of my husbands unpredictable work schedule; I’m responsible to use it as an opportunity to do new and creative things. I am not a victim of exhaustion; I can prioritize sleep rather than staying up late to fill my “me time.” I’m not a victim of my circumstances and if Jesus called it all joy to endure the cross, then I can call it ALL JOY to endure the difficulties of my life because like the cross, the outcome of sacrificial, loving motherhood is GLORIOUS.

So this is my stake in the sand, my memorial commemorating the importance of not falling prey to the spirit of victimhood, while holding before my face the truth of who God has called me to be: a victor over everything that life chucks at me. It doesn’t always change my circumstances, but it completely changes my response to them.

To be honest, this is not always my go-to, but I pray by God’s grace and His faithful pursuit of my heart, that it will become a well-worn pathway in my mind. Sometimes the familiar and easier tendencies to fly off the handle and just give the world and everything in a piece of my mind, is far too appealing. But I trust that He who began a good work in me, is able to complete it! This applies even if the “good” He is accomplishing is painful and feels to be going against the grain of my very being. This is where perseverance is golden and a healthy perspective of eternity is a necessity for seeing His “good work” becoming augmented in my life.

So you’ll find me here, with goop dripping off my hair, children running about and the revelation planted deeply within my heart that I am a victor over any snowstorm that could come my way.