The Guilt of Falling Short

The Guilt of Falling Short

I was so strange as a child. If I thought I had done anything deserving punishment, I would tell my mom and send myself to my room. Most of the time, it was my own rules I had broken. This was at 5 years-old. That’s when I began chasing perfection. And it got worse. I was reading self-help books in middle school. I wanted the perfect life. I was taking it a step at a time. I could always be better than I was yesterday. (Anyone with me?) But I was impatient. I would plead with God to make me “better”. That’s not a bad prayer, but better leads to perfect and that’s really what I was after. A few years ago, I realized that my ultimate subconscious goal was to “make myself perfect.” And when I fell short of that, I would become engulfed by guilt. I was so sick of feeling guilty for falling short. I knew in my head that ultimately God’s grace covers all of me – good and bad, but in daily life I just didn’t embrace that grace. I just wanted be free – to live as I am, love God and love others. I can gratefully type now, God has freed me and is healing me from the years of the imprisonment. It really was like being in a jail with the door wide open, but I was telling myself I wasn’t good enough to be free. That’s the first thing he has revealed. My Biggest FEAR: I am not good enough. See how the goal of getting “better” plays into this?...

Mondays and Moodswings

I’m starting to see a pattern through writing this blog. Mondays are completely out of whack. And so are my hormones, but I knew that. Over the past few years, I’ve experienced post partum depression in a way that I didn’t know existed. Anxiety leading to the blues. At first, I didn’t even know what it was. I just thought I had anger issues, which I may very well have. But then, I realized a lot of times, my rage came out of nowhere and was accompanied by a racing heartbeat and discombobulated thoughts. Hmmm. That’s strange. I’m pretty even-keeled so it was completely uncharacteristic. It was definitely enhanced by my bad habit of bottling things up without any sort of release. Anyway, once I realized what was going on, I was able to control myself a little better. Well, no, I listened to the Holy Spirit more and gave up control more often. Me controlling myself always results in yelling and throwing or kicking things. Yes, I’ve broken plastic dishes and a trash can. There. It’s out there. Soooo… today, a mood swing crept up on me and after several frustrating attempts to get my children to listen and obey, I snapped. Ugh. I hate it. Tears were shed by every person awake in the house (the baby was sleeping…through it all…amazingly). Thankfully, within 5 minutes, everyone had kissed and hugged and apologized. I apologize to my children on a regular basis and tell them that I am imperfect, and today, for the first time, I told them being a mommy is hard. I know it is wrong...