A Little Honesty For the Here and Now

Ohhh, folks. Do you ever have those days when you are all out of sorts, more than tired, and simply down on yourself? I had one of those afternoons yesterday. The bummer was that it fell after a lovely morning when I had breakfast by myself at Corner Bakery and spent time delighting in a passage from the Bible. Those kinds of mornings are very rare (I had a client cancellation) and I thought that the rest of the day would be as blissful and sweet.

It wasn't.

By last night I began to recognize some depressing thoughts. I had gone from a feeling of contentment to the belief that I was a bad wife, mother, counselor and friend. I had a long list of phone calls, both work-related and personal, that I had yet to return. I felt overwhelmed by the idea that, "I'm letting everyone down." I forgot to baste the chicken breasts and they were dry after being grilled. "I'm a terrible cook - Russ must get so tired of my lack of creativity in the kitchen." I was bone-tired and had decided to miss a standing girl's night where I receive both accountability and true friendship. "They are going to be mad at me - they're going to think I don't really care about them."

And sometimes I read over other blogs that I typically enjoy and suddenly find myself comparing my life to the lives of these other women (who I don't know, don't share life with) ...and I end up feeling terrible. How do they have the time to have beautiful gardens, impromptu photo sessions with their children that look professional, the latest fashions, decorating skills, sewing "how-to's" and homemade recipes? Why do I feel so pitifully crappy in comparison?

See? I told you I was in a bad headspace.

I came across this poem here today.

Song for a Fifth Child.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

(by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton)

It caught my breath a little. Tears sprang to my eyes. I felt validated. Because yesterday I made up a song for Davy and sang it to her and she laughed the whole way through. We took a walk and she babbled the whole time. I am choked up just thinking about the fact that she isn't comparing me to anyone else. I'm her Momma and I'm all she knows.

I have battled performance-driven Christianity for so long and I make my living showing people the way out of that madness. And yet here I am, blindsided by it again. What I mean by that is that it only takes a few hours for my thoughts to go from believing that my Savior has ransomed me from a belief that I have to work for His approval, for His love... to trying to earn it. He has given it to me freely and because it cost Him His very own life, He is hurt and offended when I attempt to prove myself to Him.

This little bit of honesty comes after posts upon posts of self-bragging, trying so hard to prove that I'm a cool, funny, intelligent person. Just being real, y'all. This train of thought probably appears a little jumbled and addled. That's okay. It only proves that I need my Savior badly - that I need His rescue from a world that judges me according to what I can DO, instead of Whose child I am.



(I put this photo on here for 2 reasons: One, because I am reminded that I don't love my mom for her cooking, cleaning, or any other motherly talent. I love her because she's my Momma! And two, so that you can see a little of the resemblance between D and I.)