Today it’s difficult for me to write. Hard lumps of air remain painfully lodged in my throat. Silky tears leak from my eyes and slide down my cheeks…a few drip on my wrists and key board. Yet, I feel I must write…I must for some reason record my pain.
I’m suppose to write the rest of my love goals mentioned in the post below, but I have already failed with the first set of five. I know God does not make mistakes, yet I flip through pages of memories stored in the archives of my mind that reveal my mistakes and I beg to understand why He gave me the blessing of a husband and children I do not deserve. I know I must rest my hope in His Sovereignty…but still…I hurt.
I’m not just writing about mistakes made months and years ago, but the ones made minutes ago. If I were working a 9-5 job and today was my annual performance evaluation, I’d be packing my office belongings into a cardboard box and leaving without any positive references…blacklisted…labeled as being of no good use to the profession.
When The Professor left for work a look of defeat shadowed his face. Clutter is everywhere. If I could neatly stack our dirty laundry if would extend floor to ceiling. Dirty dishes align the sticky kitchen counter tops. My bed is unmade and I desperately yearn to crawl back into it and hide under my covers.
I’m repeatedly told that these are they days I will beg to return…that I’ll one day want my children to be small again…and that I should cherish these moments. To be brutally honest…that’s a bit much for me to swallow right now. Today is a day of demands, frustrations, meltdowns and failures. Yes, I know that one day when they are grown I’ll long for them to be little again…to hold them close and to once again gaze into their soft eyes…but reliving this day and moments like it?
Honestly, can anyone who has made it through the fires of mothering tell me that they welcome back a day of temper tantrums and ungrateful responses? I just cannot imagine that. And the fact that I sometimes wish these moments away make the tears flow harder, because I know I'm selfish.
So please forgive me for not being uplifting today and for not completing my goals. I am not giving up and will write them today or tomorrow and I will stick with this exercise. I know that the war raging within has already been won for me, but I am weary of this particular battle. I am weary of me.
Excuse me as I lay down my broken soul at the feet of Jesus and cry out for His healing. I ache, but not without hope, because I know He will answer.
Psalm 119:27-29 (New Living Translation)
Help me understand the meaning of your commandments, and I will meditate on your wonderful deeds. I weep with sorrow; encourage me by your word. Keep me from lying to myself; give me the privilege of knowing your instructions