The thing is, sometimes I do things right. Some days I get up early and exercise, shower, and produce hot breakfast all before 6.30, when I wake my beautiful children with my gentle voice and shepherd them to morning devotional.
Sometimes I get all my list crossed off.
Sometimes I go days without eating butter. Or sugar. Or white flour. (But usually not all at once.)
Sometimes I use a soft voice to manage the affairs of this little household.
Sometimes I remember where I am expected to be and I’m there. And everyone who’s counting on me gets what they need.
Sometimes I get my thousand words written.
But those are not the things I focus on. Instead I highlight my deviations. I notice and obsess over the times I shout or binge or laze about. I remember the times I leave a kid at school or don’t return a phone call or completely forget that I was supposed to make some family’s dinner.
Why is that? Why do I focus on the wrong parts? Why, in my own judgement, am I not a good person with stupid tendencies, instead of the other way around? And if this is going to change, it has to be me who changes it. Because although it’s very, very nice to hear other people tell me that I’m doing things right, I’m the one who knows all the shortfalls. Thus, I’m the only one capable of perfect judgement about me – and I somehow always fall short of where I want to be.
Hmmm. Ponderous.