So I did something the other day I shouldn’t have. I read a blog post. Yup. Guilty as charged. It was in fact a very good article - about how this particular lady organises her afternoons.
I won’t say who she is or provide a link for you. Not because I don’t want you to read it. (There were lots of great tips) But rather that it just wasn’t a good choice for me. I generally avoid conversations about housework and what others can achieve in a given timeframe as I just can’t. I find it disheartening to know that what would be considered a good week for me, is somebody else’s afternoon. Not even a whole day!
It really didn’t help. It was the final shove I didn’t need to push this exhausted, inadequate Mama over the edge and into depression. I have no-one to blame but myself. And I have spent a good chunk of the week battling those inner voices and struggling to smile much. So I let myself be sad. My eyes persistently leaking as I once again mourned what doesn’t belong to me; deciding that I might as well embrace my feelings and acknowledge them instead of wishing them away.
The beautiful thing in all of this? He met me there. Held my hand. Let me cry for a while. Then a bit more. Gently lifting my chin He offered to take my pain, my frustrations, my shortcomings. Reminded me that it’s okay not to be perfect… That I am loved in spite of me.
Hebrews 4:15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. 16 Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (NIV)
Now, your turn…