It’s my privilege to read this to you:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3:22-24

I had a bad day yesterday. I’m not sure if it was hormones or the fact that I didn’t get enough sleep the night before or if it is was just that one thing that someone I love can say that pierces a hole through the wall in my heart: the wall that I keep up so I that I don’t feel and so that I can forgive and so that I can get up out of bed every morning. It was a bad take-a-bath-in-the-middle-of-the-day day. It was a take-the-bowl-of-Halloween-candy-to-bed day. It was a day.

Something happens on those days: my brain plays this funny trick on me. My brain focuses on the “bad” things I did and the things I didn’t do, not the fact that I drove Abraham to school on time and played with Samuel (in my bed for part of the day, but we cuddled and watched movies and he was “Dr. Sam” and checked my blood pressure and gave me shots) and read him books and fed him and made lunch for Jack and a big pot of white chicken chili for the week and fried pork chops, sautee’d green beans and potatoes covered in this fantastic gravy for dinner that I almost took a picture of it was so beautiful a sight on a day when everything seemed hopeless. And my family ate this glorious dinner, which is a miracle. And then I was tired and my back was freaking out and I sat on the couch while Jack put the kids to bed. And I beat myself up for being lazy. Yeah.

So I grabbed the bowl of halloween candy–not a glass of wine or a cigarette, mind you (which is a miracle, too!)–and crawled in bed to watch back to back episodes of the Good Wife. And as I sat there eating m&ms and Skittles and wondering if I would even have the energy to get out of bed again to brush my teeth or wash my face and how that is just terrible and my skin won’t regenerate all night and I’m going to look like I’m 50 when I’m 40 and my teeth are going to rot out of my head because I’m just so lazy I can’t get out of bed. But I did get out of bed. I did wash my face, but skipped the wrinkle cream. I did brush my teeth, but damn the floss!

And as I cozy in deeper, pulling the comforter up to my chin, this diseased brain of mine loops around and around the Halloween candy, and tells me that because I ate too much Halloween candy today, tomorrow has to be a bad day, too.

And the crazy thing? I believe my silly, diseased brain. I go to bed feeling like a failure.

When I woke up this morning, I was still believing the hopeless lie. I made myself take a shower, even though it felt like I was moving through concrete. My sweet husband brought me a cup of coffee, and I curled up in my fluffy robe and read my morning devotions, even though I told him I felt terrible and hopeless and didn’t know how all of this pain could ever be put in perspective. Then I read this:

I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. Phillipians 4:2-3

Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”
Genesis 28:15

And after all of this time and so many of these days, I see Paul’s words differently. I see that I am going to have desperate days, and I am going to have joy-filled days. And I am going to have to walk through both. Somedays will feel like they never end. 7 pieces of halloween candy will haunt me, and shame will whisper in my ear. But just because I have hungry days, lonely days, curl-up-in-bed days, doesn’t mean that I am a failure or lazy or broken. Today’s depression doesn’t define tomorrow. And if I know anything, it’s that tomorrow is a brand new day.

As I sat there and reflected on this God of mine, on this Best Friend who loves me and will never let me go, on this promise that He will keep me through the good and the bad days, the fog lifted. I heard the pitter patter of feet in the hallway, and remembered who I was, all the good that makes me who I am, my life worth while, this day brand new.

I am the daughter of the King, regardless. When I can’t trust my own head, I can trust His promises.

He is all I need.
He is my strength when I am weak.
He is with me.
He is bringing me back to the Promised land, because that’s what He promised me He would do.
He always keeps His promises.

So, if you’re hungover this morning with regret, if you feel poisoned with the drug you used last night to just make it through, know this: today is a new day. And His mercy is fresh every morning.

Go take a shower (I know how hard that is!).
Get dressed.
Look for mercy. He’s showing up for you, my friend.

God bless you,

Taylor