It’s been “a week” – good, bad; high, low; joyful, sad; humbling, selfish; running, crawling; laughing, crying; winning, losing; words of wisdom, words of regret; thrilled to be alive, wishing I wasn’t; happy, angry; well-loved, forgotten. I’m tired and this morning it hit me like a ton of bricks. I collapsed into a puddle on our bathroom floor this morning and the litany of “I can’t for one more moment” began to stack up around me. Just 24 hours before, my non-profit partner and I were talking about how full our hearts were because we’d been asked to support a family in one of our district schools that was struggling and we could say “Yes. Absolutely – this is exactly why we started our non-profit!”; yet there I was (and still sort of am) getting swallowed up by the darkness that I, on a daily basis, work to keep at bay.
Am I enough. Can I really do this?
Mom, volunteer, business partner, non-profit founder, advocate, storyteller, wife, sister, daughter, friend, His, warrior, survivor.Failure, pathetic, waste of time, too emotional/needy/difficult/unpredictable, victim all seem to be more accurate labels than the ones I want to be true. I say none of that for sympathy but for two reasons:
- To remind myself to not get sucked into the lies and reinforce that I haven’t totally “lost it” because there is still a corner of my brain that refuses to let my “ick” win.
- To hopefully reassure some other warrior mama in this world that you are not only not alone in your “ick” battle but you, we, have survived every single bad day that we were certain we would never get through. Of all the things we don’t consider a success, we are 100% successful at surviving.
When “can’t” seems so much more a reality, “can” is always a choice worth fighting for. I can apologize. I can be okay with crawling until walking becomes possible again. I can be the woman who has it all “figured out”. I can have a day when the I’m faking the “she has it all figured out”. I can have a day when “figured out” girl needs a moment to regroup. I can collapse in a puddle on my bathroom floor, stay there for a bit and get back up. I can ask for what I need, sometimes with kindness and other times with a loud “I need you to hear me on this!”, because I am worth it. I can be happy, even overjoyed, and then sad or angry just hours later. I can be defeated, damaged, broken and still win the war. I can wade through the garbage and discern what’s worth keeping and what needs to be put out on the curb.
“Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ.” (Philippians 3:8)
I, you, we “can”, even when “can’t” seems to be the only obvious outcome. And when we can’t, He can. Carry on, fellow warrior in the full knowledge and comfort that we aren’t doing it alone. ♥