I got my Mother’s Day present today.
It’s kind of a two-edged sword–I haven’t been blogging lately and when the hubby asked why, I said it was because inspiration would hit me at the weirdest moments. My MacBook isn’t that portable, my Fire isn’t really for blogging, my phone is too small.
So I end up losing track of my ideas.
I don’t think he really believed me, but he did something about it.
And now I’m stuck.
He got me my first iPad.
And he’s waiting for me to get to work.
Which got me thinking, how long will I be able to keep covering up my laziness?
Because that’s what I really am.
And I’m really more inconsistent than consistent.
More selfish than selfless.
More inconsiderate than considerate.
And since Mother’s Day just passed, let me admit it.
I am worse as a mother.
I don’t pray enough for my kids.
I don’t like cooking.
Actually, I don’t like housework at all.
I’ve often assumed that being a stay-at-home mom automatically means I’m a super mom.
Even if my sons eat corn dogs for dinner because I was too busy fighting orcs with Eowyn.
Entitled. Yea, that’s me.
I am not the Proverbs 31 woman.
I actually don’t aim for it, mostly because I think aiming for it kind of ruins the whole idea behind it. So it’s not a goal on my list, but an honor if the hubby and my sons consider me one.
I feel more like the Samaritan woman.
Unfaithful in so many ways.
Especially in the ways that matter.
But maybe that’s why I’m so in love with grace.
And I’m so grateful God thought of it.
And practices it.
Because if He didn’t, I’d be damned.
Grace works in my husband.
And he forgives me for whining over not having my own domain.
And he keeps paying each year so I can have one.
Even if I don’t use it that much.
Grace means he’ll do what he can to get me to keep up my end of the bargain.
To keep writing.
Grace works in my kids.
And they keep forgiving me for yelling at them.
They know it’s not their fault, but that’s okay.
Grace means I’m still the best Mommy in the world,
Even when I forget tonight is their concert, recognition, fair.
Mostly, grace works in me.
And God keeps letting me start over.
He lets me go my way.
And He waits at the other end.
He hears me when I call him Father,
even if I don’t look much like Him when I do.
He opens up new ways to keep me chasing my dream,
even if all I do is take things for granted.
I keep wishing I could be more like the people I follow on Twitter.
The ones who get things done.
But then last Sunday Pastor Dan Crow said,
“We measure up when we become like Jesus, not when we are better than others.”
I’m pretty sure that’s grace making sure I get it right.
So grace knows I’m a messed up failure.
But grace thinks I can be more.