failing Archives - Jacque Watkins

A Letter to You, For When You’re Weary

May 16, 2013 by Jacque 10 Comments

Dear weary mom,

I see you. And I’ve been you. Weary, drooping, and exasperated, like week-old tulip petals trying to hang on. Fading and withering, more and more … until weak, and all used-up, and falling right down.

I am you. And I know.

I see the messes you face over and over again.

The Cheerios appearing on the floor without fail, every single morning.

The dishes piling one on top of another … because the dishwasher’s already clean and there isn’t even one moment to unload it.

The toys regenerating and scattered throughout the house.

The crayon marks and drops of watermelon juice smeared all over the floor, which you only notice after stepping there.

The shoe closet littered with empty water bottles, because those boys discarded them in a rush while re-packing their baseball bags.

The layer of dust on the corners of each stair and the dried blue toothpaste clumps in the sink.

The crumbs of goldfish decorating that carpet you just vacuumed yesterday and the papers piled all over the counter.

The unmade beds and unopened mail, and empty toilet paper roll … the one changed only by you.

Believe me, I see. And I know.

I see the craziness of your schedule as you try to survive each day.

I see how you wake to their bickering, negotiate their apologies, redirect their insults, and teach them to forgive each other over and over again. I know that process is long. I know the detour it cuts into your day. I know.

I see how you spend hours in the car. How it’s morning school drop-offs, and just hours later a Kindergarten pick-up. And without even two hours more, I see how you leave for elementary pick-up and linger around waiting for that high-schooler to be out. Multiple schools, multiple drop-off and pick up times.

I see how you drive all over town accommodating dance lessons and soccer practice, baseball games and youth group meetings, hours and hours in the car.

I see how you take all of them to the grocery store and beg them to obey. And by aisle four, two are fighting over the police-car-shopping-cart’s steering wheel, while another one’s trying to climb out of the basket altogether.

I see how you stand and cook dinner and maneuver the cranky dinnertime hour. How you answer their philosophical questions and debate their intellectual points, as you try to follow the measurements of that recipe before you.

I see how you run a marathon every single day. Multitasking, constantly thinking, and trying to plan a step ahead all along the way. The sheer physicality of it is exhausting. I know.

I see how you want to exercise but can’t. How you want quiet time but know nothing of quiet. And how you long for simpler days where you cease to run the crazed race as someone demands something at every hour.

But mostly, I see the intentions of your heart, and the desperation that resides there.

You long to be seen, and you want to be known. You want the reassurance you’re doing what matters, and in the process you’re not making too big a mess of it all.

You want to be seen for your intentions, and valued for trying … And I do see how you’re trying, yet wishing for something more, and craving the security instant success could bring.

I see how you’re stretched thin but keep hanging on.

How your doubt hovers like a cloud,

How your effectiveness seems uncertain,

And how you’re wondering if you’re cut out for this at all.

I see how you purpose to train and teach your children to become who God wants them to be. How you long to love them, but sometimes don’t really like them. And how the guilt weighs you down as a result.

I know your patience wanes and you reach your limit. I can hear the tone of your voice grow as the words you speak become arrows that pierce their hearts. Even the best of us blow it. We do. Oh how I know.

I see you. I’ve been you. And many, many days … I am you.

But the desperation of my own weary heart wants you to know we are in this together, my friend.

You are not alone.

This life as a mother is one of the hardest ones ever. Not for the faint of heart at all.

But may I whisper something to your weary heart even now?

God … loves … you.

And He chose YOU, for these dependent little moldable lives.

He picked you, amidst these adolescent years, for this. Even now.

And with His help, you really ARE enough. Because He says you are. [Tweet that]

You must know that today … YOU are seen and YOU are known. By Him and by me.

You. Are. Not. Alone.

With much love for you. And much hope for our continued time together,

I’ll be joining some beautiful women over at the new blog, Hope for the Weary Mom. Together we’re called Team Hope, and we’ll be spending time with you every Tuesday through Thursday, getting to know each other, with reassurances to your weary heart that you are not alone.

And every Thursday, starting TODAY, there will be a Dear Weary Mom link up, with mammas sharing their words of encouragement and hope.

You can visit the blog, like the Facebook page, or follow on Twitter.

Won’t you join us?

I think you’ll be so very glad you did!

Filed Under: Adversity, Character, Community, Failure, Faith, Friendship, God's Promises, God's Sovereignty, Hope, Hope for the Weary Mom, Motherhood, Relationships Tagged With: aching, failing, friendship, longing, motherhood, realness, weary mom

How Your Story Can Change the World

May 10, 2013 by Jacque 10 Comments

Our stories are made to comfort others. And your story can change the world.

Where we’ve been, what we’ve walked through … all that pain and suffering, or guilt and shame, is never, ever wasted, when we surrender it to the Giver of all things and allow Him to use it for good.

Whenever I speak or write about my story, I’m humbled and amazed at the stories women share with me in return.

I hear of their deepest hurts, the tragedy of their brokenness, and the failures that continue to grip their lives with a strength they can’t seem to shake. They speak realities they’ve never shared with anyone before, and write to me with bravery and honesty … and also with their thanks, that I went first.

Being willing to go first is a gift–the gift of comfort.

Many tell me how they felt alone and thought they were beyond hope. And while the details of their situations are all different, one thread weaves through them all. A longing for the comfort of knowing they are not alone.

Sharing our stories lifts hearts, lightens burdens, & gives us hope that we are not alone. [Tweet that]

Let’s face it, after I share, there’s not much worse that can be shared. My story climbs into the top ten of the worst of the worst. But here’s the thing, my willingness to go first and the transparency of my words, bring freedom to imprisoned hearts.

Knowing where I’ve been and how God rescued even me, surprises and comforts and changes others, in ways they never expected were possible.

Our stories change the world.

Sometimes sharing with bravery and courage, in the face of the fear of rejection, is one of the most powerful risks we can take. And maybe, just maybe, it becomes one of the most comforting too.

Because if God did it for me, that means He can do it for you too.

When surrendered to Him, our failures scream the love of our God who never gives up on us.

Our pain resonates the unending mercy that is ours in Him.

And our brokenness echoes the grace He provides.

A gift that’s underserved. A gift that fills in the fractured cracks. A gift He uses to redeem and restore all things.

Your story can change the world because of the comfort others find in your words. [Tweet that]

May you take the risk and go first, and be exhilarated at all God will do!

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer.

Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings,

you will also share in our comfort.

2 Corinthians 1:3-7 (ESV)

Have you ever shared your story?

What comfort did others find in your words?

I’m joining Lisa-Jo, over at her site today, to take five minutes and just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. The challenge is to write for 5 20 minutes flat with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing, with the prompt she gives. And today, her prompt:

Comfort…

Filed Under: Adversity, Authenticity, Brokenness, Character, Community, Faith, Five Minute Friday, God's Love, God's Mercy & Grace, Guilt & Shame, Hope, Relationships Tagged With: brokenness, failing, forgiveness, mercy, realness

In Case You’re Wondering if Failure is Always Final {The Romans Project}

April 23, 2013 by Jacque 8 Comments

Failure is never as final as not trying at all.

Over one year ago, I set out on a journey with some local in-real-life friends. We joined Ann in memorizing the Sermon on the Mount, but instead of starting in January, we started together at Easter.

It was the largest scripture memory project I’d ever undertaken, and I won’t lie, it overwhelmed me.

I printed out my cards, glued them to my Moleskine book, and carried it with me at all times, everywhere I went.

Week after week I memorized the words, read commentaries, meditated on concepts, and wrote about all I learned. The kids quizzed me in the car, checking me off as I recited each verse. My understanding of the scriptures increased, and in deep and profound ways, the words of Jesus changed me.

But halfway through, I fell behind.

Between training for a half-marathon, the arrival of fall, and the beginning of another homeschooling year, I lost momentum. I became overwhelmed. My friends passed me by as discouragement smothered me. I stopped memorizing. And I stopped writing.

The shame flew in and the guilt pressed in like a vice. And I was embarrassed and disappointed I failed.

In January, when Ann announced she’d be leading The Romans Project this year, I spent several weeks trying to decide what to do. I failed at Romans 8. I failed at the Sermon on the Mount. And I wondered if I had any business starting something new when I never finished the memory work I started. I was torn, and I procrastinated in deciding.

Then, Easter weekend, my local Sermon-on-the-Mount friends finished their year-long project, and they all went to dinner to celebrate their accomplishment. I was so sad to have failed to finish, for many reasons.

I have experienced how much richer life is when I’m memorizing scripture. Because in order to learn the verses, I focus on His words and meditate on them all day long. And just like Ann says, the words I know by heart will be what my heart really knows.

I’m beginning something new … a resurrection of sorts.

Because failure is never as final as not trying at all.

I’m beginning new with my Sermon-on-the-Mount friends. We are joining Ann and Liz, in The Romans Project, setting out to hide God’s word in our hearts within community. And our daily time will become our quiet time wherever we are.

And you know what? I may fail. And if I do, it certainly won’t be the first time. But I’m getting up anyway and I’m starting again.

I know each word hidden in my heart, is one more step away from the failure I fear.

And I. will. not. be afraid.

Won’t you join me?

For RSS and email subscribers, click here to view the video… The Romans Project {Romans 1:1-8}

When have you felt like you failed?

What helped you get up and try again?

*Linking with Do Not Depart, Laura at Playdates, Ann at Walk With Him Wednesdays and Jennifer at Tell His Story

Filed Under: Bible Memorization, Faith, The Romans Project Tagged With: failing, Romans

Mended :: When All We Have to Do is Surrender {Week 8}

April 10, 2013 by Jacque 1 Comment

There was a time in my life when I was unwilling to surrender. The noise of my desires and the chaos of the details left me spinning like a top. Disoriented and alone, I grew more and more discouraged each day.

It was as if I was in my own rowboat, saying goodbye to the safety of the shore … determined to navigate the ocean alone with my two oars. Certain and sure, devastation and heartache would be ahead.

I rowed anyway, believing that the island I had come to know would never be able to satisfy. I thrashed and wrestled through the journey while I rowed, desperate and exposed.

I don’t think any one of us who is broken intentionally chooses to break.

Most often it’s the consequences of the situation that break us. But perhaps once we’re broken, there are times when we are the ones who prolong our own mending, sometimes because we’re too selfish, too angry, too ignorant, or too proud.

I love the chapters for this week, because I found them to be so interconnected and full of hope.

That God can take the very place of our pain, our threshing floor, and turn it into beauty.

That He never leaves us, even in the darkest moments of our brokenness. His presence is near and He is singing over us with love.

And He wants to heal us and make us whole and new, if we want Him to.

He is never distant. He always sees.

He sees us in our lowest pits, and it is Him who is willing to reach down to save us. He longs to initiate our rescue … if we ask Him to.

The mending always begins upon the surrender. ← Click to Tweet

And the surrender brings a freedom our hearts have been longing for.

Freedom from hurt and guilt and shame.

Freedom from resentment and regret.

Freedom from trying to control everything … and freedom from the exhaustion that brings.

All we have to do is surrender … to ask Him to begin to mend us and make us new.

And He does.

I know.

The day His life boat pulled up next to mine, and I surrendered my oars to Him, everything changed.

He is God and He is close.

He sees and He knows.

And He is near, ready for the surrender.

Come today … be free and be mended.

Today, my friend Denise is sharing in more depth about our reading for this week.

Please hop over to read her encouraging words.

May you know how very much you are loved.

When in your life have you needed to surrender?

What happened in the mending?

Here’s the schedule for the coming weeks…

April 11 - Chapters 23-25 :: Denise

April 18 - Chapters 26-28 :: Tracie

April 25 - Chapters 29-31 :: Concluding Thoughts

*Photo Credit: Tom Gill, Flickr Creative Commons **Linking with Denise and Ann

Filed Under: (In)couragers, Adversity, Brokenness, Character, Community, Failure, Faith, God's Love, God's Mercy & Grace, Grief & Suffering, Guilt & Shame, Humility/Self-Denial, Mended, Relationships Tagged With: brokenness, failing, mended

When You Need to Believe There Can Be Beauty After Pain

April 6, 2013 by Jacque 7 Comments

It is only in the after, that we might see any beauty at all.

After the snow melts. After the rain has come. After the bulb spends months in the dark cold of the ground.

After the leukemia, and the chemo, and the central lines … the hospitalizations, and the procedures that swirl life right down the drain.

After the loss comes, and the funeral music plays, and the long years of grieving begin. After the reminders continually spring up everywhere, mocking that life will never be the same.

It is only in the after, that we might see any beauty at all.

After the the bankruptcy and the moving and the profoundness of the loss. After waiting for a job and wondering how to buy food tomorrow.

After the mistakes and the failure, and the burying weight of guilt and shame that one day will need to be shed. After the dark nights crying, chests heaving, endless nights wondering if we’ll survive even just one more night.

It is only in the after, that we might see any beauty at all.

After the mess. After the pain. After all has come crashing down, and the darkness debilitates and the anger suffocates. Loneliness hangs on and depression hovers like a cloud. All the lost hopes, crushed dreams, and plans laid bare, lying shattered on the floor.

It is only in the after, that the cloud can lift and reveal His view. Beauty from ashes.

We can’t see it in the before … and it is obscure in the now. And even in the after, we may never be able to see the beauty in it, at all.

The scars of our pain will continually remind us and we may never know or understand the why.

But even in the now, we can trust Him … trust in His love and cling to His heart.

We can choose for our desperation to become dependence,

For our pain to become our purpose,

And for our hearts to beat after His.

And one day, in the after, may He give us the gift to see the beauty He brought through it … after all.

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace,

who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ,

will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.

1 Peter 5:10-11 (ESV)

Looking back, how has God redeemed your suffering?

How has beauty come from your pain?

I’m joining Lisa-Jo, over at her site today, to take five minutes and just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. The challenge is to write for 5 20 minutes flat ~~with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing~~, with the prompt she gives. And today, her prompt:

After…

Filed Under: Adversity, Brokenness, Character, Community, Failure, Faith, Five Minute Friday, God's Mercy & Grace, God's Promises, Grief & Suffering, Guilt & Shame, Hope, Relationships Tagged With: 1 Peter, aching, beauty, brokenness, failing, mercy, shame

Mended :: For When You Wonder if You Can Be Forgiven {Week 5}

March 21, 2013 by Jacque 4 Comments

There was a time in my life when I honestly wondered if I could be forgiven … if I was worthy to be near God or near the cross at all.

And in the most dark and isolating moments of it all, I feared God would stop loving me.

For years I told others all about His love. But when I blew it and messed up so badly, I doubted it applied to me. What I did was so wrong. And everyone told me so. And I knew better, yet made those choices anyway.

Part of the reason I doubted His love was my inaccurate view of Him and an inferior knowledge of His Word. I bought into the concept of gradations of sin–severities and levels of disobedience. And I failed to see what is actually true.

Sin is sin to God. No matter what it is. And we have all failed Him.

No matter what the sin,

No matter by accident,

Or by willful choice,

Sin grieves God’s heart.

But the amazing thing is, He loves us anyway.

He. Loves. Us.

No matter where we’ve been, what we’ve done, or what’s been done to us,

the love of God never wavers.

It is constant and unending, vast, and measureless, and strong.

Stronger than our doubt.

Bigger than our shame.

Wider than the guilt.

And able to meet us in our regret.

It took years for me to absorb these truths about God.

And if it hadn’t been for my failure, I sadly suspect I may never have grasped the depths of His love.

Failure is never final because of Him.

Because of His love He longs for us in an unrelenting pursuit of our hearts. But we have to say yes. We have to surrender.

And for a period of time I allowed my failure to keep me from the cross. It’s as if my guilt and shame were the canyon blocking access to Him, telling me I didn’t deserve to be loved, and mocking me for even thinking what I’d done should even be forgiven.

I didn’t approach God partly because I was afraid of being rejected by Him. But mostly because I was afraid what He would ask of me if I surrendered my whole heart to Him.

Because here’s the thing about surrender, it’s all or nothing. ←Click to Tweet

Surrender requires vulnerability … to cease our resistance, to give up, let go, stop the control, and end the striving … the striving of doing things our own way and in turn submit to His.

To come bare and broken and willing to give it all to God … this is surrender.

And when I finally hit my lowest place, I chose Him. I surrendered.

And I am living proof that there is nothing, NOTHING, that our God can not redeem.

“The Lord loves you, and He longs for you to have wholeness in Him…in return for your mistakes, He bleeds mercy. In the place of wounds He give you this gift … be mended.”

~Angie Smith, Mended

So today, as we consider our failures,

All the internal voices yelling we’re not enough,

And the inside dialogue that keeps us from surrendering,

May I whisper a message to your heart today … to your heart that wonders if you’re enough? The one that mocks you that you would even consider you’re worth anything to God?

Oh friend, you are enough. He. says. you. are.

And He longs for you to be vulnerable with Him–to trust Him to make good out of your mess.

“So today, no matter how many times you’ve denied Him in word or action. No matter how far from the cross you feel. Come to Him immediately. Bring your sin, your shame, your past failures and know that by trusting in Him, His perfection, His death and resurrection, you will marvel at what He can do.”

~Angie Smith, Mended

He promises to take your mess, no matter how big or how small, add His mercy, and make it beautiful, somehow. And I can tell you He will. Because I know.

Will you dare to believe and trust He can?

Will you be all in, come immediately, and take the risk?

I’m praying you will friend, I’m praying you will.

What has made you feel unworthy of God’s love?

Will you share about how you surrendered to God?

How did He make your mess into beauty?

To view the video of “I Surrender All”, Click HERE

Here’s the schedule for the coming weeks…

March 28 - Chapters 17-19 :: Tracie

April 4 - Chapters 20-22 :: Jacque

April 11 - Chapters 23-25 :: Denise

April 18 - Chapters 26-28 :: Tracie

April 25 - Chapters 29-31 :: Concluding Thoughts

Filed Under: Brokenness, Community, Failure, Faith, God's Love, God's Mercy & Grace, Guilt & Shame, Mended, Relationships Tagged With: brokenness, failing, forgiveness, mended, realness

For When You Know You Need More Rest

March 14, 2013 by Jacque 20 Comments

Rest has become a foreign stranger to me and I’m not quite sure how much longer I can survive without her.

It’s been so long. Sleep evades me and a heightened sense of urgency is ever before me, as every single minute of each day is utilized with little to no margin at all.

And I hesitate to even write this. Because I want to have it all together. I want to be admired and respected and valued for all I am. I really do want to be able to do it all.

But the truth is I’m a mess. A worn-down, sleep-deprived, striving-to-meet-deadlines mess.

Oh it’s true … I’m getting things done, and making progress by the skin of my teeth, but this ideal life that I’m longing for?

Where I have time to sit in silence and read my Bible, and write in my journal, as I sip my cup of tea, undisturbed and uninterrupted…. instead of reading in the car, waiting for baseball practice to end, while three kids play inside the car with decibels louder than I prefer.

Where I sit in a calm and quiet room, listening to David Nevue and writing without interruption–writing insightful and helpful words that will make a difference in this world… instead of penning words while kids eat lunch and laugh and giggle or while Gold Rush plays on the tv when kids are finally in bed.

Where I play playdoh and read a slow hour while we cuddle on the couch… instead of sending them off to play together after rushing to read three chapters in a row of the Children’s Homer since we had fallen behind.

Where I spend one on one time shopping with my teenager or eating yogurt with my tween… instead of intermittent and infrequent chats.

Where I bring my best to date night every Friday, and offer to my husband my girlfriend-self he deserves… instead of the tired, end-of-the-week, yoga-pants-wearing one.

Where there’s time to take a nap, to feel peace, or even be bored, meandering on a walk just because…

Oh how I know I’m missing chances to seize moments. I’m failing to slow time with the weight of my full attention. Failing. And I’m a bit panicked about it. I don’t want to look back and have regrets. I really don’t.

But still, I’m smacking straight into the see-through glass surrounding my idealistic desires.

Like a bird flying into a window again and again, I just can’t break through.

And it’s not like I’m wasting time…

I never watch tv.

I don’t sleep before midnight.

I never take a nap.

And I use every spare minute I’m given.

It’s simply a never-ending marathon I’m living.

And yet the more efficient I am at using my time, the faster it flies by, and the less it seems I have.

The to-do lists spin in my head until I wrestle the ideas down as they fly by, barely able to scribble them onto the nearest scratch paper I can find.

Multi-tasking has become my norm, with a little person talking to me, doing another thing, and thinking of something else all at the same time.

I’m easily irritated, frustrated with any inefficiency, and lacking in patience.

And it’s time to just say it straight, I’m not gonna lie.

I am tired.

Overwhelmed.

Exhausted.

And most days in over my head.

Wife,

Mother to five,

Part-time working registered nurse,

Writer and blogger,

Speaker,

Marriage mentor,

Chapel praise-team member,

Co-op teacher,

Friend…

The thing is, I have no idea what to do about it. I’ve known the benefits of rest … of sleep, eating well, and exercising. And I know the risks of stress … the leptin, the ghrelin, and cortisol. And I fear I’m their latest victim.

I know beyond a doubt I need more rest. I need more peace, and I need this pace to stop.

And while rest looks different to each person, I do know it’s a choice.

How our heart feels rest really is a choice. But the truth is, for me, it just hasn’t been an easy one.

Every hat I wear matters so much to me … and I’m still not sure what I should let go.

The fear of letting go is strangling the freedom of rest.

And honestly, I’m just not sure how to invite her in and get to know her again.

Have you been enduring a crazy pace?

Do you struggle to rest?

I’m joining Lisa-Jo, over at her site today, to take five minutes and just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. The challenge is to write for 5 20 minutes today … flat with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing, with the prompt she gives. And today, her prompt:

Rest…

Filed Under: Adversity, Authenticity, Character, Community, Failure, Five Minute Friday, God-Sized Dreams, Relationships Tagged With: failing, realness, rest

How to Share Your Past Failure with Your Kids

February 16, 2013 by Jacque 2 Comments

Talking to our children about our past mistakes and failure can be a risk. We fear looking bad, being a poor influence, or giving them a free pass to fail. We prefer, instead, to relay the best of who we are, because it makes us feel better about ourselves. And instead of transparency, we subconsciously craft an impression that is disingenuous at best, and a total lie at its worst.

I’m over at the MOB Society today, sharing five benefits to sharing our past with our kids…

And if you’ve ever wondered what you should share and why, join me, won’t you?

I can’t wait to see you there!

Click Here to join me…

Is there something in your past you dread sharing with your kids?

What happened when you did?

Filed Under: Adversity, Authenticity, Character, Failure, Guest Posts, Motherhood, Relationships, The MOB Society Tagged With: character, failing, motherhood

You Are Loved … Deeply, Truly, ALWAYS

January 30, 2013 by Jacque Leave a Comment

Motherhood wrestles me to the ground and pins me down more days than I care to admit.

Insecurity mounts and the feelings of failure rise,like a wave ready to take me completely under and hold me there.

Giving in to feelings is futile, and I do so more than I care to admit.

But God is whispering words to our hearts, if only we can dare to believe them…

I’m over at the MOB society today, a beautiful community for mother’s of boys by mothers of boys.

And we’re talking about all we wrestle with, and the many things that keep us from believing we are loved.

It’s a post for all mamas–for mamas of boys or girls, that you may know and believe that you ARE loved.

Deeply. Truly. And Always…

Won’t you join me there?

(If you are reading via RSS or email, click here to continue reading over at The MOB Society)

How do your days wrestle you to the ground?

What keeps you from believing you are deeply loved?

And don’t forget to come back tomorrow, for our first ever end-of-the-month link-up…

To share some way in which (no matter how small) mercy found us, or grace changed us!

May we encourage one another in community!

Filed Under: Adversity, Failure, God's Love, Motherhood Tagged With: failing, love, motherhood

Unglued {Lesson 3} & (in)couraged to hope Link-up!

October 22, 2012 by Jacque 1 Comment

If there’s anything I’ve realized by tracking my raw emotions and unglued moments this week, it’s that I don’t want to be this way forever–I don’t want to stay the same. As I’ve explored my self-inflicted labels and recognized my exploding and stuffing tendencies, I realize what a mess I really am.

Don’t get me wrong, identifying and logging my tendencies has been half the battle, but even with the knowledge of some strategies, my process of change is so slow … two steps forward and one step back. And it is imperfect progress indeed, which frustrates my perfectionistic-check-off-the-box-so-I’m–a-success personality.

Oh my, I have so far to go.

And I’m realizing how much grace I really need, mostly from my own heart.

Last week was a milestone for me. I was scheduled to speak for the first time to the women at my home church and I had been preparing my talk for weeks. At the last-minute my husband got stuck late at work and I was on my own for the evening, with all the kids in tow. No problem.

So we piled in the car and set off for church in enough time to arrive early. There I was in the car, driving and trying to stay in a reflective and prayerful mode, while my kids failed to get the mommy’s-getting-ready-to-teach-others-the-bible preparation procedure memo.

And despite their loud talking and stuffed-animal role-play animations, I successfully kept my cool. Or so I thought. But unbeknownst to me, I had been stuffing my feelings of frustration and irritation as their loud and obnoxious ride-in-the-car behavior escalated more and more.

There was complaining as I stopped at Home Depot to buy the plant for my talk’s visual aid,

Arguing over whether or not we should go to McDonald’s,

And grouchy lamenting when the worker accidentally gave us Sprite instead of water.

As we pulled out of the drive-thru, the high-pitched imaginary animations escalated even more, and finally I lost it. I came unglued. Over the course of our drive, I had stuffed away retaliation rocks and now had proceeded to catapult them at the kids right there in the car, immediately transforming into an exploder who blames others.

And as bad as that sounds, at least not all was lost. I didn’t yell and I didn’t use insults. But even though I stayed calm, I exploded just the same. And while I explained how much I needed their help to stay in an attitude of preparation to speak to the ladies about Jesus, I blamed them for ruining my atmosphere and making my mommy life so difficult.

Ugh! Progress yes, but imperfect to be sure.

And then I remembered Lysa’s words…

“God doesn’t allow the unglued moments of our lives to happen so we’ll label ourselves and stay stuck. He allows the unglued moments to make us aware of the chiseling that needs to be done. So instead of condemning myself with statements like, I’m such a mess, I could say, let God chisel. Let Him work on my hard places so I can leave the dark places of being stuck and come into the light of who He designed me to be.”

~Unglued p. 37

So as the ladies prayed over me just before the service began, I surrendered my imperfect progress. I let go of my unglued moments, along with my shame, and purposed in my heart to let Him chisel—let Him work on my hard places and make me into who He wants me to be. Because I don’t want to be stuck in my hard places forever.

This week’s lesson is entitled “Four Kinds of Unglued”, and we’ll be diving into session 3 of the participant’s guide and chapters 5 and 6 in the book.

We’ll learn about the two types of exploders and the two types of stuffers, and study their characteristics and tendencies. And while you may discover you have more of a bent toward one type or the other, you may be surprised how you have utilized a bit of each approach depending on the details of your given situation or circumstance.

Throughout the week, not only will we identify our tendencies and track them, we’ll learn how to practice holy restraint…

“Holy restraint is the seed that produces the fruit of self-control.” ~Unglued p. 70

And we’ll discover about “finding the quiet” even if we have to step into a bathroom to do it!

“Bathroom stalls can make great prayer closets.”

~Unglued p.71

As you continue on this week in your journey through Unglued, be encouraged! You are not alone. Tracie and I are walking right alongside you in the thick of the muck and mire, and we are cheering you on!

And now it’s your turn! We can’t wait to hear from you! Nothing would make our sweet-leader hearts happier than to read what’s been happening with you!

So link-up your own post,

or share with us in the comments…