the "Come to Jesus" meeting

I tried all day to valiantly rise above my dark mood which rose this morning in place of the sunshine, hoping that I could write something a little more positive than what I came up with at the start of the day.
Alas, it was not to be, as the drumming of the incessant rain beat my spirits deeper into the mud with each passing hour. The "come to Jesus" meeting I was going to have in the tub got unceremoniously dumped in favor of the plaintive bleating of a squirmy, restless 3 year old who suddenly decided 47 of his favorite cars were "super dirty, mom, and they need to be bixed right away in that water!" Ah, the couch and a blanket are as good a place as any to come to Jesus, right? It's just....so much easier for me to come to Jesus when I am cozy in the comfortable surroundings of hot water up to my neck (hmmm, that seems a bit telling), a cup of coffee, and my pen and notebook....I guess everything just wasn't right enough today for me to come to Jesus. And I felt His sorrow over this all day. It was palpable, although, until now, sort of...indefinable. All day I've had decisions to make, was provided with opportunities to get out of my funk, but it just seemed too much of an effort. It would be easier after that bath I didn't get. The nap I also longed for all day but couldn't quite squeeze into my hectic and exhausting schedule of laying lethargically on the couch and feeling sorry for myself, only getting up when my children and pets couldn't manage to care for themselves like grownups. I actually told David today to stop acting like a baby.  This was, of course, so ludicrous that he just went right ahead and laughed in my face and had the audacity to make me smile ruefully at my own foolishness. So I did the only thing I could do to save my injured pride. I playfully put his pullups on over his head instead of on his little hiney. Finally, something he could appreciate. Did this redeem my bad mother of the day award? Not by a long shot. But it was so nice to hear his precious giggles. Ever really listen to those little sounds? They're just another way God uses to whisper love and srength to the tired souls of mommies and daddies everywhere.
I am very sorry to report back that in my lameness today I didn't actually ever come to Jesus. And I guess that is kind of the same thing as thumbing your nose up at Him. How horrid it feels to admit that. But you know, thinking back over this day, Jesus was at the meeting all day, waiting for me to show up. He wasn't in the tub waiting for me. He wasn't at the sink waiting for me to talk to him over the dirty dishes I was too lazy to do. He wasn't sitting over a cup of steaming coffee at the table, waiting, either. I have a big couch. I laid on it a lot today, wallowing in my own depression and self-pity. By golly if He wasn't sitting right here next to me all day. Not guilting me for being late. Not nagging me for my attention. He was sitting here showing me love in the unexpected small but fierce hug of my son with a quick but undeserved, "I love you mommy". As the tentative but clear notes of my daughter's singing while she made crafts quietly at the table crept slowly into my consciousness and I marveled (from the couch) at what an amazing girl she is becoming and what a tender heart she has, that was Him, too, drawing me gently to himself. And if you don't think I can feel Him here holding me right now as tears are streaming down my cheeks, let me reassure you, I may have been late for my come to Jesus meeting today, and that is a day I won't get back. But I just realized, He has been patiently waiting long enough. Please excuse me, I have a meeting to attend....right now. It's only 11:50 my time. The day's not quite over.