July 23, 2012

Fessing Up

Washing migraine pills down with a gulp of cold coffee is not my favorite way to start the day. I'd rather still be in bed. And it's not just the headache that's bothering me. The fact is I am a fraud. Despite my brave posturing, I have been the guest of honor at my very own pity party. And even though I have realized that fact, rather than ending the party, I'm still hanging decorations. Balloons? Streamers? Oh yeah. The works.

He left again. It was hard the first time. It was worse the second. Matt was with us for a week. A very short week. I reveled in it. I snuggled up to him on the couch, I sat beside him at the table, I watched as he played with our children. I washed his laundry. He made dinner. We stayed up late into the night catching up on all the little things that never made it into our phone conversations. It was happy and sad at the same time. Happy that he was home, sad that it wouldn't last. Sad that this had been the shorter separation and the next would be longer. Perhaps many months longer.

I usually try to look for the best in any situation or at the very least take on a "suck it up" attitude. I well know that there are so many who are facing difficulties I cannot even imagine. My piddly problems are so small in comparison, and yet, here I am feeling sorry for myself. Not just a little - I'm wallowing in it. Pitiful. Even worse, I'm not sure I want to feel better. Like a little kid who refuses to calm down and shouts, "No! I'm not done being mad!" How dumb is that? Even I'm rolling my eyes at me.

This isn't the first time I've fallen far short of the me I thought I was. I much prefer the heroic, virtuous woman I am in my own head. The imaginary me is awesome. The real one, not so much. I take comfort in knowing that my Lord is not surprised by my shortcomings. He knows all about my true self, and rather than pushing me away in disgust, He calls me to come closer. I am thankful.

I'm slowly shaking off off the depressing effects of my own self-pity. I am leaning hard on the knowledge that my God is beside me every step of the way and that His grace is sufficient. It's a good thing. Left on my own I'd probably be hanging a disco ball about now.


Anonymous said...

Your post is a perfect combination of comedy and tragedy. It takes a strong and heroic person to see the real person behind the mask. We all wear them. Hopefully, with each painful realization and reflection we become a little more like the person God created us to be. For me, this whole loving from afar thing has been one of the most difficult things I've had to deal with in my own life. It's a huge trial and I sympathize with you. I also have faith in you and know that you will do this well, as you always do. It might be easier if we could pull the covers over our heads and not come out till we're ready, but we both have people counting on us. I guess that can be a good thing because it gives us a reason to keep going and not give up. I love you so much! I wish I could just say 'Beam me up, Scotty!' and I'd be there with you. I know I'm not the one you'd like to see, but if I could do it then Matt could do it, and Beth and Derek and everybody and we could all be together! Well, anyway, it's fun to think about.... Love, Mom

Christine said...

It helps me to think when I get like this (and I do throw myself pity parties all the time too for much smaller stuff), that my weakness shows me how much I need Jesus and His love. If I could do it all, I wouldn't, and that would be so much the worse for me.

Lisa said...

He is great in our humility. Maybe that's why He's taken His Hand of consolation away from you this time -- because He wants you to lean oh Him and not expect greatness from yourself... ? I've had these same kind of personal "fails" when I thought I had no reason not to buck up as Ive always done... And then this still, quiet Voice seems to say, "Trust in Me... instead."
Praying for you, friend -- and asking specifically for His consoling Hand on top of your head. I'll hang some streamers over here for you, in the meantime, though, because I'm sad and lonesome for you at the very thought of such a separation. Hang in there! I betcha you'll rally before you know it.