Voices in my head tell me I'm not enough. I feel their lies strangling my heart, suffocating my soul. I feel heavy. I feel dark.
Not a good enough mother. Not a good enough wife. Not a patient enough teacher. Not an organized enough time manager. Not a strong enough athlete. Not a clean enough housekeeper. Not an amorous enough lover. Not an enthusiastic enough entertainer. Not a righteous enough disciple. Not an inspired enough writer. Not a sharp enough dresser. Not an accomplished enough musician. Not a diligent enough studier. Not a wise enough scholar. Not a courageous enough missionary. Not a creative enough cook...
But God's grace is sufficient! I wrestle the phrase. I know it. I believe it. But right now I don't feel it. The tears and the snot. The ugly crying won't stop. It must just be hormones, my time of the month. I wish that meant something. Somehow it doesn't help. The pain and the pressure are real. I can feel them pressing on my eyes. I want to close them. I want to sleep. But the tears soak my pillow, and the sorrow is a stone in my stomach. I want to throw up.
"Mommy, why are you crying?" I don't know. I'm just sad. Come hold me and love me, though broken and bare. I don't feel I deserve you, but I need you now. This is a familiar place. I've been here before. I know that this too shall pass. I will hold on now. The cleansing tears will flow. I will welcome them and wait. The light will come again soon.
Not a good enough mother. Not a good enough wife. Not a patient enough teacher. Not an organized enough time manager. Not a strong enough athlete. Not a clean enough housekeeper. Not an amorous enough lover. Not an enthusiastic enough entertainer. Not a righteous enough disciple. Not an inspired enough writer. Not a sharp enough dresser. Not an accomplished enough musician. Not a diligent enough studier. Not a wise enough scholar. Not a courageous enough missionary. Not a creative enough cook...
But God's grace is sufficient! I wrestle the phrase. I know it. I believe it. But right now I don't feel it. The tears and the snot. The ugly crying won't stop. It must just be hormones, my time of the month. I wish that meant something. Somehow it doesn't help. The pain and the pressure are real. I can feel them pressing on my eyes. I want to close them. I want to sleep. But the tears soak my pillow, and the sorrow is a stone in my stomach. I want to throw up.
"Mommy, why are you crying?" I don't know. I'm just sad. Come hold me and love me, though broken and bare. I don't feel I deserve you, but I need you now. This is a familiar place. I've been here before. I know that this too shall pass. I will hold on now. The cleansing tears will flow. I will welcome them and wait. The light will come again soon.
I go to the house of The Lord. I am not worthy, but He is there. I lay my broken soul on the altar. My well is empty. Come, fill it up.
0 comments:
Post a Comment