Sep 192012

I sat at the dinner table surrounded by a community of people Sunday night.  Some of them I’ve known for almost 20 years, others I have met in the last five years and two whom I met that evening.  Our night started like any other first experience with a group of believers who have gathered for dinner and  to share our lives.  There were introductions, a few “How ya doing”, one or two “What can I do to help?” and finally we all settled down to eat.  The conversation was light and easy while we ate and then we jumped right in to the questions for the week.

What is your dream of a perfect life? 

A few years ago I thought I had this one nailed.  Perfect life?  Easy, peasy.

My perfect life consisted of a husband, two kids, a dog, a house in Winter Park and a Volvo.  In 2008 I had every wish fulfilled.  There’s even a picture somewhere of all of these things together!

And then it hit me…I needed bigger goals for myself.  I’m still not sure what “my perfect life” is, but I know it is bigger than my original dream.

What is the image you have of yourself? 

That weight of that question hit me and I sat back and listened to everyone else.  With tears in my eyes I finally responded and said,

“I feel like I’m a jack of all trades and a master of none.  I’m completely overwhelmed with everything and instead of doing a few things well I feel like I’m a failure at everything.” 

What image do others have of you?

This one was far easier to answer because I hear it often.

“You’re superwoman.”

“How do you do it all?”

“You’re so good at…”

I always laugh these statements off and say, “Have you seen my house?  I’m not superwoman.”

I hate the image that I give off to others is that I am superwoman.  I am so far from it.  I yell at my kids.  I hate mopping floors.  The kitchen is always a disaster.  My kids don’t get a bath every night.  Sometimes dinner comes from a little blue box.  I have no idea where the iron is and if we even own one. I have good intentions and terrible follow through.

I’m human.  I fail.  Sometimes I suck at the mommy gig.  Oftentimes I suck at the wife gig.  But I serve a God who picks me up when I fall down.  One who dusts me off and whispers “I love you” as He restores my strength.

So, no.  I am not superwoman.   I am just like you.  I’m trying to muddle through this crazy life, trying and failing and being renewed every single day.