feeling my failures

If there's one area that I've consistently battled in the past few years, it's a sweeping feeling of failure. Sometimes it arises from a specific situation, but more often it creeps upon me in the daily matters of my life at home. Let me be very clear in saying that no one is reproaching me with a word of correction, my dear husband is not sighing when I walk into a room, my son is not neglected or out of control(ok, sometimes he's kind of out of control), and generally speaking, our little home is not falling apart around me. The laundry is, for the most part, managed, food makes its way to the table, and we don't crunch on the carpet too much. It is a whisper that follows me though. And I find it particularly cunning in this sweet and tiring season of motherhood. I have become more profoundly aware of it since our move to a far off land.

As we enter the new year, a time when I do like to reflect on changes that I would like to make and goals I would like to work toward, I find the whisper loudening. Part of this is, of course, related to the growing responsibilities on my plate, the growing stomach that seems to forbid progress on some days, and a language that is harder for me to conquer than infamous greek.

Failure is the opposite of success. This is a helpful recognition for me because a true failure would mean that I did not succeed in what I set out to do. I need definitive examples for this general feeling. Usually for me, it's the whole gamut of life, rather than one specific area that is generally the pressure point. That vagueness can be difficult to overcome. Most often I would like to define success as a finished check list at the end of the day. When we were in Louisville, a very wise teacher pointed me to the biblical concept of faithfulness. I am task oriented in many respects. Faithfulness defines success differently. When I am faithful in a day, I may or may not accomplish everything I set out to do. The list might be incomplete for any number of reasons: a cranky toddler who needed more attention, an unexpected guest who required hospitality, a pregnancy that suggested sitting for an hour would be wiser than standing, etc. If I am not being slothful with my time, if I am walking in the good works God prepared for me...many of which I am not aware of until I enter into the day...I should be able to lay my head on my pillow at night and rest well. I've walked faithfully. The list does not define my failure or success.

I wish that simple understanding had deeper root in my heart.

As it is, I have near weekly discussions with my husband about feeling like I am a failure. You can ask him. It's true. I thought I would tell you that because you might not know it from reading my thoughts on painted snails and eggplant recipes. And what often encourages me in moments when I wonder if I will ever really get it together is to look into the lives of women I know....women who might seem to have it all together, but they really don't. They're plodding along faithfully but not perfectly. They are repentant when they are unfaithful. They greet the days giving thanks for God's mercies. Peering into their lives, I see the marks of faithfulness and the seeds that they are unconsciously sowing that will one day be a beautiful harvest. It spurs me on.

Don't grow weary in doing good. Press on. Keep going. At the proper time, (which does not likely seem to be in the midst of young motherhood:) you will reap a harvest.

Asking for faithfulness in our lives this year.