Recently in feelngs Category

My husband said, "I want you to make our family a priority by being the woman you intend at home." In my head I retorted, "What? Perfect?" And then it hit me. "Perfect" is exactly the woman I have been intending to be. Whatever part of my psyche found that a joke was right on. In just the sixty seconds prior to that thought I had imagined myself as a wife who handles every single episode of being injured with a perfect grace. I had thought of all the meals I needed to plan--perfectly--for weeks in advance, all perfectly balanced, affordable, and appealing to whichever members of my family I happened to be feeding. These meals I would shop for, cook, serve, clean up after, and even have extra frozen as storage for emergencies so that my family would never have a night without a delicious dinner at home.

I mean, really? I--nor any other human--will never deal with every blow with perfect grace. A never-ending stream of perfect dinners is also never going to happen in this world, even for the best of 'em.

So I am far from some of the things I dream of. So what? That's the condition of life. Of being human. I am the woman I intend. I love my family above all else. I never stop examining myself for weaknesses and flaws-- relentlessly I pursue being the best I can be. I grow. I love. I believe. I serve. I am faithful. Even in the face of wrong I strive to do right. I don't give up.

Am I a woman who is always stumbling, always dreaming lofty dreams of loving and serving her husband and children and fellow man in amazing ways but falling short? Well God bless that woman. God bless her! That is a godly woman, and I am proud to be her.

it was an unusual night in that it was just me and J-- well, not counting the ever-present little ones. But there were no older sisters around to engross me. As with every other precious time in life the evening ended with me wishing I had had more time and had done more. We played each other in Wii Fit, but not as much as I wished. We watched a movie, but I wish it could've been two. We didn't laugh together as much as I had hoped (rather, I didn't laugh enough) and we didn't end up cooking together as I would've liked. But we did tease, joke, and generally hang out. It's kind of strange to think of him similar to the sweet little two year old who snuggled me on the couch tonight. He used to be that boy, and now Ori is. Now he's a twelve year old boy who gets caught in the middle of two teenage sisters and two baby siblings. I think often about how our relationship strained and thinned over the years. I think often of how I wish it were some other way. I wish I knew how to connect with him now.

Any time the topic of self-esteem crosses my path I am convinced that I have no such problem; I know I am valuable and worthy of love. But occasionally, on a night like tonight, that wall comes crumbling down. All I see is the worst of me, which looks like a broken person indeed. I see a person who is lucky to be loved.

Mean words, I guess, is what I'd answer if you asked what brought this change about. Or perhaps, it's my interpretation of what was said that's the problem. See? Yet another fault in me, to read criticism into things. Am I blaming my feelings on others? The faults pile up as I fault myself for being faulty.

What a mess. What a mess I am.

Maybe they were mean words, in which case I'm at fault for having mean people in my life and allowing them to tear me down.

I don't know which way is up. I am down.

What ordinarily I see as minor flaws seem major right now. Let me present you with a list of why I am lucky to be loved. Maybe some self-preservation will kick in somewhere along the way before I implode:

• I'm not very flexible with change; I set expectations and feel vaguely disappointed if what I imagined isn't what happens. (It doesn't matter what the expectation was, whether it were a boring day at home or a busy day out.)
• I am ruled by my emotions and I don't understand them. I act in the moment of passion instead of assessing the situation later in peace.
• I am a self-centered friend.
• I'm argumentative. I argue every last thing that is unfair, untrue, illogical, or unclear.
• I am not generous.
• I am not very gracious.
• I have to take good care of myself to maintain my mental health which is set asunder by things like pregnancy hormones, sleep deprivation, excessive stress, or not eating. My physical health has grown equally unreliable.
• I don't stand up for myself. I don't know what healthy boundaries are. I'm afraid of conflict and sometimes scared of others.
• I am too wordy.
• I keep my head in the sand.
• I am too lenient and inconsistent with my young children and not involved enough with the older ones.
• I get hung up on what is "fair".
• I am prone to being cranky.
• I am easily influenced by and controlled by others.

I'll rest my case. The list of things I dislike about myself is much longer, even, but whether I am flabby and unable to keep a perfectly clean home doesn't really factor too much into love.

I may be loved by God, but why can't I be loved here on earth, too? I wish for a love that overcomes all these flaws and goes further, to appreciate my flaws as eccentricities and cherish everything that makes me who I am.

Comments are turned off, so you can't rush in pity to tell me how I am not all of the things I am. Or, if you were inclined to agree with me, you can't tell me that, either. I assure you I don't need any more blows.