Ever grasping for brightness, for that always-out-of-reach glow.
Not just another dancer; I wanted more than corps-de-ballet.
Didn't settle for singing in the choir; I had to become the soloist.
English class? Nothing but straight A's & top honors.
Poetry contest? I'll win that scholarship, thank-you-very-much.
Stage productions? A leading role, or I'll move on to another company!
My marriage had to be fairy-tale bliss; my children the picture of perfection & delight.
Gotta stay fit & trim,
keep the house tidy,
impress the in-laws,
please the friends:
keep working, working,
working to be,
Wholly crap, people. I'm exhausted.
And I've finally figured out what you've known all along...
So much wasted time & energy, trying to shine, trying to be so special, so radiant. But the real me? All by myself? I'm kinda dull & weary. Crabby, controlling, critical.
Ironically, most of my works are faith-related.
To be a godly wife, a devoted mother, above-rubies and all that.
The Proverbs 31 woman, y'know?
Okay, except without the up-at-dawn part. But even there, we all feel a little guilty for it, don't we? Sleeping in? Not getting up to knit socks & make five-course breakfasts before the sun rises? I mean, seriously, who can measure up???
What a relief to discover I don't have to. I never will.
God didn't create me to be perfect, only to be perfected.
What a relief to discover I'm not supposed to be remarkable after all. Ordinary is just the place He wants me to be:
Clearing breakfast dishes with a toddler on my hip.
Endlessly picking up Legos from the living room floor.
Driving my daughter to & from youth group.
Laughing at the antics of my boys on the trampoline.
Scowling & scolding when it turns into a wrestling match.
Bending, cleaning, reaching, cooking, holding, fussing, loving.
Nothing remarkable about it.
Everything remarkable about it.
The remarkable of what God has done.
With ordinary me, He has brought forth this home of laughter & struggle & heartbreak & repentance & forgiveness & love, so much Love.
Through ordinary me, He birthed these 7 amazing children; filled with imperfections & beauty & fun & frustration & redemption & love, so much Love.
Despite ordinary me, He grows a marriage, from roots of control & fear, to branches of commitment, and blossoms of hope & humility & vulnerability & courage & love, so much Love.
I've not been created for perfection, only for perfecting.
How strange that I've spent years striving to be remarkable for God.
He is the only remarkable in me.
Ordinary, unremarkable me.
Linking up with Lisa-Jo and Five-Minute-Friday.
And just for the record...I always cheat. The basic writing might take 5 minutes, but yeah, I go back & edit & add links & all that jazz. Still tryin' too hard to be remarkable, I know. So c'mon, cut me some slack. I'm in recovery, 'kay???