Have you tried resetting it?

“My phone is being so weird… like every time I open this app it crashes and the screen turns black…”

I held my iPhone out towards my husband with a facial expression of, ‘You know how to fix this don’t you… obviously… since you bought and set up all of our other things with the cords and buttons?”

“Have you tried resetting it?” He asked me, all matter of fact.

Resetting it. Like you mean, turn it off and then back on again? How can that be the solution? It’s the easiest method of all, and the most basic. There isn’t any code entering or frantic screen tapping involved.

Turn it off, wait a few seconds while calmly breathing in and out with expectant hope, then turn it on again and see if it’s ‘working now?’

You must be joking.

But it turns out, 9 times out of 10 it is the solution. And it’s not just the solution for the old iPhone either… This resetting trick works on the laptop, the TV soundbar, the internet modem.

Things that make you go, “Huh.”

A dear mom friend a few years back said that she often just yells “RESET” in her home when the old parenting spiral is at its peak. Like when every child is grumpy and hungry, and stricken with a rotten attitude. When you yourself as mom just need a cup of hot coffee and a second to refocus on what you’re even doing with your life amidst the cranky souls that surround your feet beside the unfolded laundry.

“I like that!” I said to her. “I’m going to try it at my house.”

Did you even know you can just choose to reset your day like that? What a gift.

I often tell my son when he’s struggling with a temper or sketchy attitude (he got it from his mama), “You can choose you know. You can choose to stop being angry and turn this moment and this day around.”

That’s the fancy eloquent way of simply yelling, “RESET.”

Reset. I need to fix my heart. I need to remember that this day, and this very breath, is a gift from God.

Reset. I’m going to fix my emotions. My frustration in the moment doesn’t have to determine the outcome of my day.

Reset. I really do want to be willingly working at whatever I’m doing. That means willingly working at even, and maybe especially, the stuff that I find the most difficult.

It’s so simple. But man, does it ever make a difference inside your home and your heart.

Somebody needs to embroider that on a pillow immediately.

The good news is, in my kind of profession, I get a lot of chances to practice this whole reset business. And even though I still need to yell it from time to time, each year it turns out I’m resetting less than the year before.

Growth. It may be slow and small, but it’s there.

Just yesterday I walked into my bedroom to find my newly made bed and every pillow in our home transformed into a Nerf gun war barricade. I also discovered a very angry toddler sitting on top of my 8 year old punching him repeatedly in the face… yes that scenario. I scooped up my toddler and transported him to the bathroom for a much deserved break from all of the people. I then returned to my 8 year old and helped him restore order to my ‘please don’t play in here, you know better’ bedroom.

He was like, “Mom, you’re not mad? I thought you’d be so mad… That’s so great.”

“Just push the reset button.” I simply said.

If I were a tattoo type of person, I would get this verse in beautiful artistic font on my forearm as a constant reminder.

Work willingly (not begrudgingly with a super bad resentful attitude)

At whatever you do (that means all of the things, ever… not just the parts you like)

As though you were working for the Lord (my God, my saviour, and my friend)

Rather than for people (short angry ones who only possess two emotions, glee or rage.)  – Colossians 3:23

It’d probably make for a pretty wordy tattoo… Maybe I’ll take up calligraphy and start with writing it on a journal cover instead.

Until then, a scrawled version written with a dull pencil on a post-it note will do just fine.