I felt compelled to write. There’s something at war in my heart that fights for my joy. I believe I am inadequate for my roles as a wife and mother. I wrote this on my lunch receipt yesterday and now writing it here for some semblance of remembrance:
God, help me be faithful in my home: A lover of my husband — my brother in Christ. Help me see my children as those in need of mercy, compassion and grace. Help me see those in my household as my closest and first neighbors to fulfill your great commandment.
Give me eyes that look up instead of so often inward. I am viciously consuming my joy by tearing apart every imperfection and weakness. My pride says I am worthless. My self-focus tells me I can improve me. I’m helpless until I find my help in you. I’m restless until I find my rest in you. I’m inadequate until I find my acceptance in you.
You won’t lead me where you wont equip me. Help me.