A Shattered Image

I have this beautiful image of myself of a mother that exists only in my head.  In this image, I am put together (something I have never been), who makes exercise a priority, who has a clean house, who spends daily time in the Word, who is always nice to her husband, and who practices attachment parenting so beautifully that the Drs. and Mrs. Sears call to get tips.  In this image, I am always present with Jane, never paying attention to my cell phone or computer unless she is sleeping.

And then my daughter wakes me up for the 472 time and I lose my mind.

Or I spend all day trying to get her to nap, and am wildly successful.  For 45 minutes.

Or I get bored of walking her around the house for the umpteenth time and check Facebook and Instagram.

Or I get through a week and realize that I haven’t even opened my Bible.

Or I realize that I was short with my husband.

Or

Or

Or.

The image is shattered daily.  But I think that’s a good thing, because even though I’m not spending much time with the Lord, He still finds ways to connect with me.  Humbling me.  Showing me that I need Him.  Showing me that I am no one’s savior.

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