A conversation brought it back today. Remembering made me cringe a little on the inside.
It happened when the top three were little. I'm not sure what sparked it - it could have been that a closet was a mess, or a bed wasn't made or a little one wasn't ready when they were supposed to be.
I can't remember. That's why I cringe. The reason wasn't important enough to file away to be brought out later. I'm so sad to think of it even now.
What does come back is the image I caught in the mirror. The image that screamed Ugly back at me as my lungs screamed at little hearts. Whatever was coming through the mouth from the heart was tearing down small ones.
Changing my name from Momma, Mommy, Ema, to Ugly. From Comforter, Nurturer, Encourager, to Ugly.
I chose that day to never yell at them again. I didn't like what it looked like on my face. What it felt like in my heart.
I didn't want them to grow up thinking of me as Ugly. Oh, it's reared it's head in other ways over the years, but the desire of my heart is to show Beauty.
The voice on the other end of the phone reminded me of when I told her that story. She doesn't want to live Ugly either.
It's more than a choice. I can say all day that it's not going to be seen, and then the smallest thing . . .
It's a way of life. I must live to fill the heart up with good so that only good comes out to speak life to those around me. To speak beauty.
So they see beauty.
And I can feel good about the One in the mirror.