Yesterday was one of those days in parenting that you wish you could have filmed. Moments that I could slow down and relish – as well as moments I could speed up and skip.

The traffic was slow to get home. I ran over something that popped my back tire just as I was turning onto my street – yet I made it to my driveway by the skin of my teeth. (Thank you, Jesus!) My husband had the project of mowing our jungle-of-a-yard that swiftly crept up on us during the recent sporadic rain showers and I had errands to run and a chiropractor appointment for the oldest girl.

We had no choice but to call in reinforcement (aka, one of the high school girls in our youth group) to come and help out while we tried to tidy up the day and cross the most important things off the list.

Honestly, every day isn’t like this. Some days are slower…we invest in each other as we spend time grilling or sitting on the deck telling stories about the events over the last eight hours. However, yesterday was not one of those days.

I’ll be honest in saying that I wouldn’t have received the Mother of the Year award. I didn’t provide a home cooked meal for the kids (unless you consider Wendy’s to be “home cooked”). And Dad did all of the tucking into bed last night because I was busy fixing an issue on his computer regarding the business.

But I do recall reflecting on the evening as I sat at the kitchen table, watching the progress bar inch across the screen, nearing completion of a hard drive backup…

I thought about that moment that I had a mess of water to clean up from the two youngest in the bathtub. Then I remembered picking mulch out of Willow’s mouth because she found that tasty(?) substance when she was playing outside. Oh, and there was the pile of Band-Aid wrappers all over the floor near the hall closet because somebody had a bunch of boo-boos to cover up.

It was that last one that got me thinking. I remembered looking at someone’s little knees, tiny bruises bore witness to the fact that hard, outdoor play had begun. But no scrapes. No cuts. I had even taken a moment after inspection to say “Buddy, you aren’t bleeding anywhere. You don’t need a Band-Aid.” He protested and shook his head to disagree with me. Those little blue eyes were adamant as he stared back at me, desperately hoping I wouldn’t interfere between him and the reassurance he needed from Spiderman in the form of a sticky cover-up on those bruises.

This is when the Holy Spirit speaks the loudest. It’s in these little frustrated moments of mentally asking myself how much money my son just wasted on Band-Aids to make a connection that shouldn’t have taken this particular occasion to figure it all out.

I have to smile when God uses these lessons as reinforcement for what I hadn’t done throughout those moments of normal chaos. I hadn’t prayed about the small stuff. And I know I don’t need to emphasize how often the small stuff mounts up into a stack of stress that mirrors the large stuff.

Wyatt’s need for reassurance in the form of many Band-Aids across his knees made me realize that we don’t need a boo-boo to reach for the One who can make it better. Our help comes from the Lord, no matter how big or small the need may be. We don’t need to be hurting or visibly marred to hang on to the thing that makes us better. Even my little boo-boos need a hug and a squeeze.

So as I sit looking at those Spiderman Band-Aids (plus that one Tinkerbell Band-Aid just because he “liked that girl”) I am reminded of the thing that brings calm and reassurance to my life. I am reminded of what can be accomplished through faith the size of a mustard seed. And suddenly that reassurance doesn’t seem so wasted…big boo-boo or not.

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7