in my mind, i am made up of a whole bunch of parts of a person i really want to be. i’m a mom. a writer. a helper. a thinker. a doer.
in reality…i struggle with the fact that maybe i’m not really any of those things.
i am a mom who finds herself with kids who are grown. and yes, i know i’ll always be their mom. but other than the random phone call or help on a homework assignment, a hem in a pair of pants, or buying some groceries to take back to college…they don’t “need” me like they did when i established that role–the role with which i most closely (and happily) identify.
a writer? the last time i wrote anything other than a lesson plan or a five week report or a facebook/instagram post…honestly, i think it’s been somewhere around a year. (*edit–November of 2016. nice.*) i don’t even know that there is still a part of my brain that knows how to write complete sentences with proper punctuation and capital letters.
clearly.
sure, i’m a helper. i help kids figure out how to pass my math class by doing as little actual thinking as possible. i help parents walk through their own frustration with math, which they invariably project upon their children. i help people figure out what kind of crazy cake they want for their son’s 5th birthday or their wedding. i help people have coffee before church on Sunday mornings.
yeah. i guess i do think pretty much all the time. i think about all of the stuff at which i’m hopelessly failing/floundering. i think about how i’m going to pay studio rent this month. next month. how i’m going to finally get a rest at some point and not work every single day of the week for 12 hours except Sundays. i think about how i’d love to be writing. i think about why my gut aches when i’m eating clean and without inflammatory foods and how i really want to help other people feel good in their skin. thinking isn’t really a problem.
except that thinking is kind of a problem.
when i think, i remember all the things i am doing less-well than I want to do them. SIGNIFICANTLY less-well. i remember that BASICALLY EVERYTHING I’M STILL DOING, 44 YEARS INTO THIS LIFE, IS SACRIFICING.
ok. let’s be real for a second. sacrifice is important. i acknowledge that without sacrifice, we’re basically a bunch of sharks, not concerned with other fish in the ocean, biting whatever gets in our way or tastes good. this would be no way for us humans to live (there are people who do it, and they suck. don’t be like sharks.).
however.
when it comes down to it, we grown-ups–especially grown-ups in the church–talk about our daily lives in terms of “sacrifice.” we “sacrifice” our sleep and our minds and our schedules for our children. we “sacrifice” our time with our families to finish up projects at work. we “sacrifice” our money and our resources (and our time, let’s be honest) to serve on committees and in classrooms and nurseries and teams to further the cause of Christ.
we pride ourselves on the amount we’re able to sacrifice and still manage to get by…and by getting by, i mean waking up the next morning to do it all again. we go and go and go and talk about how we’ll sleep when the kids are older; we’ll rest when we get the next promotion or when wedding season ends; we’ll plug back into our kids when they’re through this frustrating phase, or when the building project wraps up; we’ll figure out our marriage when we’re not. so. freaking. tired.
our stress levels sky rocket. our waistlines expand. our energy is sucked away. we want to STAY IN BED ALL THE TIME. our joy is sucked dry.
so we fake it. we’re tired and we fake energy. we’re burned out and we fake enthusiasm. we’re pissed off and we fake a smile. we’re overwhelmed and we fake…organization.
i can totally fake it. i can look like i’ve got it together. teaching classes, keeping up with assignments, getting reports done, occasionally responding to a bride’s email, getting to the grocery store before we all starve to death. that doesn’t mean it’s not faking it. the thing that kills me is that people make comments about how they “don’t know how i do it all, and do it so well!”
it actually pisses me off.
but i do it every day.
at what point in life do we STOP sacrificing FOR the things that don’t actually matter?? when do we decide that enough is enough and we’re done faking it and that we’re completely over the run-around? when do we choose some self-care and self-awareness and self-fulfillment and JOY, and figure out how to balance what we actually need while also taking care of our responsibilities? is there a balance in the midst of that somewhere?
i seriously don’t even know.
some of the sacrifice is worth it. i have to believe it’s worth it.
but fake it till you make it is bullshit.
i want to live my life as a mom. a writer. a helper. a thinker. a doer. i want to take care of my head and my heart and model reasonable living–Godly, balanced, careful living–for my kids who are grown-ups now and will be so tempted to live that life of complete self-sacrifice…i want to figure out the balance of what sacrifice is RIGHT and what sacrifice is STUPID and where there is JOY.
i don’t know how to do that.
but i WANT to know.
All Is Grace 