Three Minutes in the Bathroom... WITH THE DOOR LOCKED

This is a place I find myself often. I’m sure you do too but maybe your spot looks different. Yes, this is my bathroom. Yes the door was locked, but not because I need my privacy; It was locked because I needed my sanity.

I escaped here. I had to. I had to or I would lose it and words would come out of my mouth that would scorch and scar. I had to lock that door because the screaming on the other side couldn’t be silenced but could be distanced for a moment. I had to escape because I love my children.

Three minutes in the bathroom with the door locked so I can catch my breath because it was one of those days in a long line of those days. It wasn’t because I’m a bad mom or because I have bad children. It is because I’m human and I can only run on fumes for so long.

Three minutes in the bathroom with the door locked so I can catch my breath was perfect. Not because of the beauty of the location (obviously, it’s just a bathroom), it wasn’t because of the five star services I received (again, it’s just a bathroom), but it was because of what I chose.

I chose to take three minutes in the bathroom with the door locked to pray. My soul was given a moment of rest because of the company of my Savior (yes, even in the bathroom) and because of the Scripture that bubbled up like fresh water to the scorched earth of heart.

I could have sat in the bathroom for three minutes with the door locked and bemoaned my situation, grumbled to myself about how I need a break and how hard my life is (eye roll), or relived all the “bad stuff” that had happened in the previous eight hours. And if I had done so I would have exited the bathroom in the same or worse state than I had entered.
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It doesn’t take a vacation, a trip to the salon, or a night out with your girlfriends to be restored, although I’d take those in a heartbeat. Really, the only requirement is pausing with Jesus; even if it is for three minutes in the bathroom with the door locked.