A Week of Wrong

A week of wallowing in wrong-doing, that's what it's been. Nothing earth-shattering or illegal. Just one of those days that turned into six in which I have violated the myriad commandments I set up for myself. A house of cards really. At 36, I should know that by now.

Nonetheless I painstakingly build it back up, time and again. And then I'll have a week of utter demolition, just to get the rebellion and laziness out of my system. Or maybe it's just the tiredness and melancholy settling into their familiar spaces. Sometimes I have the where-with-all to boot them out before they get comfy. And then there are the weeks like this one in which I've welcomed them in, fixed a round of drinks, and propped the ottoman under their feet.

Ate chocolate for breakfast on Monday and Thursday, which I rationalized was better than no breakfast at all, which is what happened on the other days.

Plucked away at my laptop during school hours (a big no-no) and then mistook their neglect as inattention and disobedience.

Taught the older two how to make coffee so they could serve me for a change...which they have done the past two mornings with great pride and delight, guilt washing over me as they gushed with goodwill and I with entitlement.

Gave Cupcake a half-eaten chocolate bar because he can now open drawers where I hide stuff {which I will likely never childproof} and lucky for him, I was having a weak moment.

Purposely did not set my alarm to get up and run because I knew I wouldn't feel like it and decided to just nip failure in the bud the night before. Better to end the day in failure than start that way, that's what I say.

Spent far too much time on the computer or in a book or chasing any mindless distraction instead of folding laundry or cleaning the kitchen...or cleaning anything at all.

Threw stuff in the trash out of pure laziness instead of nobly recycling it as usual.

Forgot to return DVD's to the library and now owe $21.20. Not an intentional crime but also not my first fine. I'm going to consider myself a philanthropist. The next Carnegie.

Haven't read to the kids before bedtime a single night.

That's the short list, just the stuff you can see and touch and not even all or the worst of it. The internal negligence and wanderings have been far more consequential.

And with every violation of "law," every personal failure, I am more and more filled with guilt and self-loathing. More and more aware that I am not so together. Not so good at being mommy. Not so supportive as a wife. Not worth much at all.

Disheartened and guilt-ridden, I crawl back...again...to the One who bids me come. The One who does not let me stay in my seemingly-forsaken state forever. I find comfort and rest for today. I realize...again...that I am not the first to do what I do not want to do and to not do what I want to do.

I cling desperately, perspiring and white-knuckled...again...to the knowledge that I am wildly loved. "Not in spite of my sin and faults (that would not be total acceptance), but with them..." {Brennan Manning}

So I load up my brokenness and broken laws...again...and dump them in a heap at the foot of the One who can put me back together.

As He had done before. And is doing now. And will likely do again.