sometimes I think we need a glimpse. just a little peek into someone else’s mind so we can know we’re all filled with crazy, and we all need Jesus just as much as the next girl.
because when we look at each other, we think we know.
we think we know what all us women think we know. ‘cuz we’re women.
i look at you and think you don’t struggle because you have money and you drive a fancy car and you wear high end clothes and your boys have all the latest sports gear and your daughter wears a $100 lululemon sweatshirt that my daughter’s been begging me nonstop for and i can’t even pretend to afford half of.
and you’re so confident and carefree and you look like you have it all together. you can’t possibly have problems in your marriage or with your kids. and you must be doing ok financially because you get your hair and nails done every week and your dark eye circles don’t show.
and you look like you’re ok. you look like you have it all.
and you look like you’re everything i’m not.
and who you are must be better than who i am because i know how i feel and it’s nothing like you look to me.
which is exactly why i think we need a glimpse.
aka a drop-the-mask-and-be-real moment.
because we’re all women and we know nothing is really as perfect as we think it is.
so here’s my glimpse.
you might see me walking along somewhere. and maybe i look all cute with my starbucks coffee, bee-boppin’ to the music of life – and you think – man, there she is walking in her cool leggings and sweater and high heeled boots and her life is all awesome and she’s an artist and her life is so great and she has four kids and they all love jesus without any question just because their mom told them to and those sweet little angels get along so well and her marriage is perfect because her husband is also in ministry and they can’t possibly have any issues that come up over and over and over again. and blah blah blah blah blah.
but what you don’t know is that it took me an hour to get the motivation to actually get off the couch this morning and take a shower and prepare for the mundaneness of yet.another.day.
and I don’t ever actually want to leave my house because i’m much more comfortable at home with my own thoughts.
and i don’t actually want to be the grownup in charge of getting all these kids to the right places with clothes on and food in their bellies and all their stuff in order and all their impressionability in my insecure hands. and how could anyone ever think i was capable enough to be a wife and a mom and a friend and a daughter and a sister and a life manager and an employee and a contributing member of society.
but these days, getting up is not an option.
so i get up to face another day.
and i fight with my kids to freaking just do their morning lists – what part of “we do the same things to get ready every day” do you not understand – and i lose my patience times infinity before we finally get out the door and into the car to leave for their schools … schools that i get really bored driving to because who wants to drive the same two mile route twice a day every day for a collective 20 years between all 4 kids?
and i finally drop them off after squeezing in our car prayer time – yay did something right – and telling everyone to be kind and stop throwing things and quiet down and yes, you have to go to school even though you’re really convincing with your fake sickness and I’m almost believing you …
and i feel so relieved to see them get out of the car and walk up to the school doors that i immediately feel guilty for feeling so relieved because a good mother does not like to be away from her children.
but i do really like a little time away – and what’s wrong with me that i would think like that – good mothers never think that way – i’m a horrible mother – i need some coffee.
which presents its own issues.
because this glimpse will show you that my mind is a mess. there’s a lot of junk in there.
and i want to reward myself with coffee for actually making it through the first two stressful hours of a 24 hour day.
because i’d rather be back home in my pajamas where i can read and snuggle up with a blanket. but instead i have to go to work. and work is fun and cool and i love it and i hate it and i don’t want to work but i do want to work and my mind is already tired.
and so I think I’ll reward myself with starbucks.
but i have to give myself a pep talk before i order a drink at starbucks because i really hate going through the drive through – but I really don’t want to park and go inside – so i’ll do the drive up but I have to remind myself to be confident so my voice doesn’t shake and yes, i am getting a drink, even though I don’t know if I should.
because we’re super tight on money and i don’t need a drink and i can’t possibly be a good mom (did i really jump to this again?) because i’m buying coffee even though i know my kids need bigger pants and new coats and gloves that don’t smell like mildew.
because their current gloves were wet last year and we couldn’t ever get them clean and now when they wear them, their hands stink and they fight over who is smelling who and why can’t we just remember to clean them – and if anyone else smells them, they’re totally going to know i’m an unfit mother and so we need new ones.
but gloves are so expensive – they’re at least ten or twelve dollars for a good pair – and i have to times that by FOUR and what were we thinking – people must think we’re crazy for having four kids on a ministry salary … I think we’re crazy!
but we’ve always been in ministry together. and now I wonder if that’s a good choice because we will never make enough money to be able to keep up with a modern lifestyle. but i’m a good christian girl and how could i even want an in-the-eyes-of-the-world-good lifestyle?
and if i was a better mom, i would just keep the laundry done and soak those stupid gloves in some sort of magical elixir that would make them all better and smell brand new. and i’d clean out our entryway cubbies so there’s not a ton of junk and papers and random kid treasures stuck where their shoes and coats and backpacks and homework and cold weather gear are supposed to go. and then we’d all know where those gloves belong and we’d dry them out after we wear them and they’d be put away instead of rotting in melted snow.
and then i realize i’m next in the drive through line.
and I think to myself – if I were normal, we wouldn’t even be having this totally psychotic conversation about my kids needing new gloves and my weird obsession with money and the total randomness of my mental thought patterns.
but that’s what a glimpse is – a moment of true vulnerability. a moment where you don’t just see me walking down the hall with my coffee … you now understand why i ordered a venti.