Superwoman Fail

WARNING : This post just may make you look at me differently - it's raw & maybe a little too honest.  If you haven't noticed already, I totally don't have it together.  Read on if you need to see the proof...

After several minutes of rambling and impatient shaking of the head, "You didn't hear a word I just said.  Ma'am you need to make a decision, I have a dog waiting in the tub and don't have time to wait for you.  I'm either shaving him or you need to take him home and comb your high maintenance dog yourself."  That was the tail end of a long & unnecessary conversation I had at 7:45 this morning with a new groomer in town (I'll save his reputation and just hope that his impatience with a potential paying customer was due to the stress of opening a new business).  Needless to say, this conversation seemed to have set the tone (and pace) for my never-ending day.

You know the days that seem as if you're trapped in a snow globe and some kid hyped up on pixie stix and fruit-by-the-foot is violently shaking you so that the dust never has a chance to settle?  For some weird reason, in the midst of these types of days, I feel like superwoman - just hand me my cape and I'll add flying to my list of things to do.  (Does superwoman fly?  She really should, if she doesn't.)  But it's when the sun sets and the dust finally settles that I see helpless me (minus the cape), a wreck because I've burned the candle at both ends and have nothing left to offer at the end of the day.  Just a really tired and haggard-looking me - major superwoman fail (in my opinion).

Tonight after my marathon day week (is today really Wednesday?  where did last monday - this tuesday go?), I found myself sitting on the floor of my office with guitar in hand (a rarity these days) just sobbing words of nothingness.  Who knows what I was singing croaking out through those tears, all I know is that when my fingers hit the fret board and my lips decided to move, my heart couldn't hold it back any longer - I verbally (and I suppose somewhat musically) vomited on Jesus.  I haven't done that since pre-marital days - not in that fashion at least.  Since being married, I've not allowed myself to unravel - I can't afford to fall apart.  If I fall apart, the whole house comes crumbling with me.  Instead, I sometimes talk to God (and myself) in the car on the way from point A to point B - venting in spurts; or sometimes (in a way I'm not so proud to admit) I have a freak-out-on-the-husband sort of moment.  But usually I just find myself sprinting through my daily routine, taking massive breaths in and exhaling serious breaths out (cheeks flared and all).  So not healthy.

Don't get me wrong - married life has been fabulous, but with it has come a whole new world of responsibilities and expectations (most of which I've put upon myself, B's a pretty easy-going {and helpful} guy).  The biggest change, however, has been my relationship with the Lord.  Daily devotions get pushed behind or squeezed in between workouts, meal planning, grocery shopping, project finishing, teaching, cooking, cleaning and who knows what else I manage to fit between waking and sleeping hours.  Those quiet nights with my Bible opened and guitar and pen in hand have become distant memories and tonight reminded me how desperately I need/miss them.  Married or single, divorced or widowed we all need those moments - whether the last one we had was this morning or last year, we need them to carry us from situation to situation, season to season.  Without them we become a powerless and tired superwoman - doing everything in our power to tackle our to-do list, but finding our reflection to be a bit older and less beautiful than when we last saw it.

I suppose I sat down to write this so that I could have a moment of honesty.  A moment of admitting that I can't do life without Him.  And if you take anything away from this, yes, you may recognize that I'm tired and helpless (and a bit crazy) but more importantly, I don't want you to find yourself where I am - exhausted.  Sure, I've had amazing moments - leading worship (and I've meant every word that I've sung), doing ministry alongside my husband, praying and seeking God throughout the past year and a half, but I've failed to do that in every situation.  More honestly, I've failed to let Him have the things I simply cannot control.  I've failed to have those moments of falling apart, only to have Him pick up the pieces.  Friends, it's worth it.  While I'm prying my white-knuckled fingers off the wheel, I'm handing it all to Him, even if it takes everything I've got.  Tonight reminded me that I'm alive - it's okay to cry - and I so desperately need Him.  No matter how ambitious I am, I'm no superwoman!