Today I am having one of those days.
One of those days I don’t even like to think about, let alone talk about… The kind of days where I am counting down the minutes until bedtime, hoping I make it through in one piece. With all my kids in one piece.
The kind of days that I feel guilty for even having, let alone talking about.
But I know how horrible it is to feel so completely and utterly alone in my thoughts, which is why I am going to share these with you.
It is so hard to even confess these thoughts and emotions to myself. I hate to shove them in the faces of those who are waiting, yearning, begging. Those who would give absolutely anything to be in my shoes. To have all these blessings.
And I get that. I really do. I know there is no greater blessings in my life than these little people God has shared with me.
But you know what else?
I know that this is hard. This life. This mommy-ing. This everything-I-ever-wanted-and-more, but harder-than-I-ever-dreamed-possible life.
This day-to-day, moment-to-moment, being needed and wanted and tugged on and pulled on and bonked and bit and kissed and hugged.
This complete loss of myself in order to help these new little people find THEMselves.
Yes, it is necessary. Yes, it is beautiful. Yes, I wanted THIS. But my goodness is it hard.
Some days (today) I just want to give up. I just want to disappear and not be needed by anyone. (For a whole hour even!)
Of course, I know this dark place will get brighter. This hurt and longing and stifling will get better. I will find my place again and I will miss these days (through rose colored glasses!) but sometimes it’s just so hard to make my heart feel what my mind knows.
My mind is rational. I understand these things perfectly. “The days are long but the years are short.”
I am painfully aware of how many others would give their right-leg to be where I am. But my heart is so overwhelmed, and heavy, and so so lost sometimes, that I’m not sure it won’t give out on my in my exhaustion.
I am so worn. And so weary.
I long for the day when the sorrow of all my failures will cease. When joy really does come in the morning.
When I wake up and find the strength to be the mom He wants me to be. The one I desperately long to be.
Until that day, I will take each moment as it comes. I will apologize often, and pray always.
If nothing else, I will teach my children the heart of a broken sinner, asking for forgiveness, and seeking out love, life and faith every day.
I will tell them “I’m sorry” and I will tell them “I love you”. And if nothing else, if I die tomorrow, the legacy I will leave behind is that they are very loved. And that I am not perfect.
I hope to have the chance to leave them much more of a legacy than that. But for now… it is enough.