Last night I sat in a little chair and talked with Little Man's teacher across a little table at his beginning of the year conference. We talked about his personality, how well he's adjusting to first grade, and how he's doing. I walked into the school tired and drained, but feeling really good about the fact that I had brushed my teeth and the yoga pants I was wearing actually fit me. About half way though the short meeting, I was trying really hard not to cry.
She said one little harmless line and it almost broke this camel's
back. Little Man has to get pulled out of class daily for extra reading
support. Really, it isn't a big deal. I know my boy is smart and I
know he'll get it in his time. But everything inside me started
screaming that I have failed as a mother yet again. I am not good
I'm completely drained this week, emotionally and physically. And
everywhere I look I just keep seeing how I'm never enough. I see the
crumbs and coffee stains on the counters. The laundry piled up,
unfolded. The dishes overflowing in the sink. I'm never a good enough
housekeeper. The baby wakes up with a poopy diaper that has clearly
been there for a while. As I bathe her and slather her with cream, all I
can think about is how I should have checked her pants during that
third middle of the night feeding. I'm never enough as a mother. Hubby
scrambles to find an unwrinkled dress shirt for work because I didn't
get that ironing done yet. I'm not enough as a wife, either.
I feel like a big, fat failure. And I'm so tired. And I'm missing my
Jameson. And all I want to do is run away from everything.
About a month after I had the miscarriage, I gave my testimony at a MOPS
coffeehouse event. I sobbed through the whole thing; I can't imagine
anyone heard what I was saying. Which is a good thing, because it ended
on a super cheesy note. Maybe someday I'll post it here...maybe with
the cheese removed. I do have a point in bringing this up. In my
testimony, I talk about losing Jameson and losing the baby and how God
has healed me and made me whole again. And it's true. God's healing
does work. But there is a trick to it. I'm learning that he doesn't
actually "cure" us on this earth. When we go to heaven, that is when we
will be cured and made perfect. Here, on this earth, we need God's
healing all the time. It's as if we are spiritual diabetics and God is
our insulin. One dose will only work for so long and then we need
more. And then we need more.
I'm not going to tie this together eloquently today. But you can see
where this is going. I hope. (I'm not a good enough writer
either!!!) All this I'm-not-enough-business is absolutely true. I am
not enough. And I seem to forget that so often. But God is enough.
And I don't need to be enough; I just need Him.
Psalm 103:1-5 "Praise the Lord, O my soul, all my inmost being, praise
his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his
benefits Who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who
redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is
renewed like the eagle's."