Crumbled

This past year has been the hardest of my life.

 I feel like I got T-boned by motherhood and I'm still in a state of shock as I pick up the pieces while my ears continue to ring from the crash. 

I felt a little sheepish about sharing this with people, because in reality, my life is pretty good. 

I have an amazing husband, a healthy baby (toddler?), a cozy home, food on the table, a supportive community and family nearby.

What more could I ask for?

The storm has been raging on the inside, and underneath my smile and upbeat personality, I've been drowning. 

A few months ago as I was attempting to process some of the emotions that were swirling inside of me I realized a very interesting trend.

All of my life I've been able to be good, or even great, at whatever I do. 

Give me a goal, some guidelines or rules, a time limit and I'm there. 

If at any point I realize that I'm not going to succeed, or be the best, I quit.

I quit.

I run away.

I escape.

I have more stories than I'd like to admit where when faced with weakness or possible failure, I've run for the hills in order to 'save face.' 

For most of my post-high school life I've been in some kind of structured internship or program where I've been able to succeed.

The expectations were set and I was able to meet them, exceed them, and strive for more.

Motherhood is a whole new ballgame.

Success doesn't have a clear definition and being the best doesn't necessarily mean that you have anything to show for it.

And the hardest part of all; there's no escaping when you feel like a failure.

Feeling like a failure while at the same time being struck with the 'mundaneness' of motherhood sent me reeling. 

Now comes in the most helpful article I've read in a long time by a guy named David Sliker.

His post about being 'ordinary' brought to light so much of the struggle going on inside of me.

"The language of the modern church reflects a worldview that is slightly different than the Bible’s definition of success. The cry is often heard at youth gatherings and conferences: “You’re special. You’re powerful. You’re great. You can change the world!” There is a major difference between having a positive outlook and preaching unbiblical positivism. Unbiblical positivism has another name: flattery. Flattery initially feels good to the soul, but is ultimately very damaging to the heart over the long-term. The problems with flattery lie within its vanity and powerlessness to equip the heart for the toils and snares of life."

In other words, I had a self-absorbed and extremely inflated view of myself that loathed weakness and scorned the simplicity and, dare I say, invisible life of a mom. 

When the programs, the awards, the A's, and the acknowledgements disappeared, I felt naked and shaky in my own identity. 

"Some refuse to face the truth about their daily life. They cling to the fantasy they bought wholeheartedly in their younger days, which makes the eventual collision with truth more painful. When life comes crashing into the one who believed the flattering words of a self-absorbed messenger, the consequences are tragic. The heart hardens quickly. Cynicism and bitterness are the beginning of the new life that awaits the disillusioned. Compromise often follows."

I was angry at God.

I was confused, wounded, and depressed.

I felt hardness creeping into my heart and shame coaxed me to isolate, numb, and give myself over to despair.

If it were up to me, I would have stayed in bed all day.

There was no escaping.

There was no quick fix or just right answer.

In fact, I wish I could in all honesty talk about this in a 'past tense' way, but I can't.

This is still hard for me. 

Being great, being in ministry, being gifted, being in the forefront was so woven into the core of me that when it was stripped, I crumbled.

I still feel like I'm in pieces.

2 Corinthians 4:8-10

We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed- always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.

And now the task is given to me to die. Daily. 

To take up my cross and follow.

"God's not out to hurt your pride, he's out to kill it!"

He's crushing my pride, my vanity, my self-centeredness in hopes of beauty on the other side.

He's looking to make me like gold, which is only perfected through fire.

In his wisdom he gave me the desire to be a mom, knowing that motherhood happened in the background, in the late nights, and in the laying down of my life. 

He does have a plan for me that is extraordinary and through my selfish desires I interpreted that to mean my own greatness.

But in the end, He will receive glory from my life; a broken and contrite spirit that comes from years of patient endurance and faithfulness, by the grace of God!