Yesterday my husband read a couple of my blog posts. Instead of telling me how clever and witty I am, he said:
Lackluster life? Do you really feel that your life is lackluster?
I responded with my usual rationalizations like,
"Of course not, I'm just being funny. 'Lackluster' only in the sense that it's not Broadway."
I got all defensive and told him that he doesn't get my humor and that he was making much ado about nothing.
But he wasn't. The truth is, the last few months have been hard. Motherhood and domesticity have become challenging in a new way. I mean, intensely hard...overwhelming this here wimpy soul. And while blogging has been such a great outlet for me and I get to talk about decorating and the Golden Globes and all, the truth will eventually seep out...even when one is trying to cover it up with fluff and funnies.
Today, after crying on the phone to my husband, I realized that it's okay to admit that life is hard. Sometimes I don't want to admit that because it makes me feel guilty and spoiled. I don't live in a war-torn, AIDS-ridden African country. I am not a single mother. I know where my next meal will come from. So I don't feel I have the right to say (out loud) that life is hard. But it is.
In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.
Those were the words that came to me in rare moment of quiet reflection.
Turns out my Bible isn't broken after all. (A joke from one of my last posts.) Those were not just words Jesus spoke for the martyrs and the persecuted. They're words for all of us, for the AIDS orphan in Africa and for the weary mom living in vinyl-sided suburbia...like me.
The mom who is tired of living the life of a servant. The mom who doesn't want to yell at her kids anymore. The mom who wonders (multiple times a day) how badly she may be screwing them up and what kind of therapy they may need when they're grown. The mom who wants to change. Who wants to be kinder, gentler, more patient, less selfish, less on edge. The mom who wants more than anything to delight in being a servant rather than often despising the selfless existence she's called to live..and truly wants to live (in her better moments.)
I need to change. I want to change. But change is more than a campaign slogan. And it's definitely not just something one wills herself to do. I can't just change...not without help. And this is usually how it goes with my Father and me. I try and try in my own strength. I fail and fail in my own strength. I finally give up, admitting that I've got nothin'. And I hear him say...
Now this, my child, I can work with.
He works with nothin'. He's kind of crazy like that. You know, creating people out of the dust of the earth and all. Speaking stars into existence. Turns out He's really good at making somethin' out of nothin'. And I am really bad at getting that through my head.
So, right now I've got nothin'. And I've decided I'm okay with that. Because my Father is ridiculously creative and powerful. And He's constantly having to remake me. I'm ready and finally willing...and grimacing. Because being remade usually hurts a bit.
So, while there is definitely trouble in this world, my world, I am not alone. And neither are you. Take heart...and thanks for letting me share mine.