Life lately has been full. So. very. full.
Late night talks deep with vulnerable hearts and tear-stained pillows.
Days crazy with schedules that never stay the same.
Babies who are growing up so fast, and reaching Mamas trying to hold on to just one more second of what remains...
Decisions made that humble and bring us closer together.
Jeremiah is 2 months shy of 2 1/2 and most days I feel as if he's on the verge of 4. Most days, if I'm not counting to ten, I'm trying so hard, so very very hard, not to lock myself in the bathroom away from his constant "No, it's not _____" insert anything I just said. All day.
Judah turns 15 months old tomorrow, and he's to that stage where he is realizing, "Oh, I have this sort of freedom to get into things, and even though Mommy looks upset that I just did that, it was pretty fun. Let's do it again!" And his babyness is vanishing. Quickly. I know I'll have another soon, but it still hurts...
And I push myself. I push myself to get things done and I have this image of how clean the house should be and how often I should be on the floor playing with my kids and how I should make Trevor's lunch and be a super wifey. But you know what? Right now, I pretty much fail all of my expectations. And I haven't gotten to the point where it's ok. Even though I know in my head that it's ridiculous to have all these shoulds piled up high over my head, because I'm 1 week away from having my 3rd baby and my other two are 2 and 1 and no one really comes over...ever... so why push myself so hard?
There is this unrest in my soul if things are not in order. Even when I'm not nesting, I can't rest if things are out of order. I feel frantic, and this anxiety even seeps into my parenting, my wifehood, my friendships...call it OCD, call it crazy, call it perfectionism, call it whatever you like. It's exhausting.
When I fail (which is a lot), at any of these things, I feel unworthy. As if having perfect children will make me more worthy of people's love, people's admiration, acceptance. As if being the perfect wife will make Trevor love me more. As if having a clean house will make me a holier person.
Where does this come from, may I ask? This drive to perfectionism, this should in our souls, whatever your should may be, that hangs over us like a big heavy storm cloud, waiting to drown us in guilt and shame if we make the slightest mistake? And how do we get rid of it? How do we banish this ugly beast from our souls?
I'm not sure where it comes from. But...maybe...admit you are not perfect. Admit it's too hard. Admit you are not worthy of love. You are not strong enough. You will never be enough. Even thinking these things brings tears to my eyes...I try so hard to make myself worthy of the love I think I so desperately need. But the truth is....the glorious, painful truth, is that only Christ is enough. He is the only one who is worthy, He alone is omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient. I can't be. Christ inside of me is the only thing that makes me worthy. "You are my Lord: my goodness extends not to you;"
This doesn't just fix it for me. It's a daily struggle, one I will most likely struggle with for some time, this drive to perfection. But I'm also willing to admit it's not ok, and bring it to the cross day after day. You get to the point where you realize, that's really all you can do. I'm tired of trying so hard, for no reason at all, to be perfect, to please people who don't really care if my kids are shining examples, who love me no matter. Because, in reality, and I have to remember this...not one single person is perfect. And the people who demand perfectionism from you? (There have been several of those in my life...) they can take a hike.
Surround yourself with people who are going to lift you up, no matter what.
I just added a new page on Facebook for this blog! I'm pretty excited about it.