Be All Things To All People

There are a lot of little people in my house. They still need me for so many things.

They need me to feed them, cook their food, help them with their homework. They need someone to wash their clothes, hold them accountable for their choices, fix their hair, wipe their nose, burp them. They need me to pour milk, make their bottle, tuck them in, and change their diaper. They need me to read them a book, play ninja, pick a show on netflix, kiss their boo boos, and swaddle them up tight. (Not all of them need the same things, obviously. Hope you know I'm not swaddling up my near-7-year-old at night.)

Don't get me wrong, I know these are good things. Things mamas do. But since adding a baby to the mix I have really struggled with HOW can I do all this? How can I be the mama I want to be, the one I should be, to all of these children? How can I be all things to all people? And that's just being mama. I still have a husband who needs a wife, friends who need a friend, parents who need a daughter, and so on.

Be all things to all people.

Should, should, should. This is how the enemy sneaks in my head.

I had a couple of bad days this week. When I say bad, I mean BAD. Days when I was extra tired and stretched too thin and the baby was crying a little too much. Days where I lost my temper and yelled and sat on the back porch in the cold just to get away from the kids for a minute. Days where these words uttered from my lips, with tears running down my face, "I suck at my own life."

All because I felt like I wasn't succeeding at being all things to all people.

In all the times I try to teach my kids to give grace to one another, to move on past things, to forgive themselves when they mess up, I don't do a very good job of that myself. Gosh, I just so badly want to get it all right but most of all get it right RIGHT NOW.

But I can't be all things to all people. Sometimes my kids are going to be told no and have to wait and play by themselves and cry for a minute. Sometimes the dishes just have to be done even though every mom blog floating around tells me the dishes will wait. Well, yes. But then what will we eat our dinner off of tonight?

Most of all, it's high time I accept I am going to get it wrong, as much as that threatens every ounce of my flesh. My flesh is dying to be perfect. Yes, dying. I am working so hard on perfection it is killing me - and every good thing around me. Life-living!-comes in the mess, in the imperfection, in the apology and the freedom of release from unattainable standards. Perhaps that is one reason the good Lord gave me so many children to raise- with each child the standard of perfection is even harder to reach and harder to fake. I can not keep up with an appearance of perfection or with my own expectations on myself.

In this new chapter of this crazy life, Jesus is prompting me to ask myself if I am going to struggle through the same old way I have done in the past, dancing dangerously close to the pit of despair and falling in. Or am I going to do this a new way, letting go of the death grip of control, and watching joy slide in ever so quietly, and realizing I do not indeed "suck at my own life," but rather was made for such a life as this.