So Father here’s my cry
In the middle of the night
While it’s raining on the city
It’s also raining from her eyes
And I know I don’t deserve
Any sort of granted favors
For I’m fallen far from grace
Yet You promise that I’m heard
So this is what I beg of You
Not for myself this time
Will Your strength fill all her weaknesses
As You renew her life.
Recently someone on Facebook posted something that bothered me. I didn't fly into a rage and comment viciously- I've been working on not commenting right away- or at all- when something bugs me, because often firing off a comment in the moment isn't most gracious ( more on this here ). But I've been thinking about it, so here we go. This post was about moms with messy houses, and how there is no excuse for one. People commented largely supporting this- asserting that messes are the result of laziness on the women's part, and that unless you are disabled in some way, you have no excuse. "Especially stay at home mom's," one woman, a stay-at-home mom herself, said, "I want to ask them what they do all day." Another comment agreed that the more time you have at home, the more time you have to clean, and therefore less possible reason why it should be messy. In general, it seemed agreed upon that a few books on your floor for a short amount...
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