This verse has been in my head for weeks. Deuteronomy 10:12-13. I've read it a million times before, but this time... there was something different in the words.
I've spent the better part of my life as a Christian, and the years before I was baptized into Christ, I was being raised in a Godly home. I've spent years trying to do the right things, say the right things, be the right person. And I have always felt not good enough. Even in the best of times, when I was closest to God, I was still horribly, awfully inadequate. And I would try to do more, and it was never enough. I was never enough. I would see the things other people were doing and judge myself against their "righteousness". And I never stacked up. Discouraged, I would allow myself to back away. There is only so much I can do, and the little I can do is nothing compared to what others can do.
There are days in this house when I feel like we're getting it right. But the truth is that we're not. Not right enough, anyhow. Yes, we take our children to church three times a week, and yes they are involved with youth groups and the like. They are good, good kids, but sometimes I feel that has nothing to do with us. My kids aren't nearly as sheltered as I would like them to be, and sometimes, they need sheltering from me. I lose my temper. I say things I shouldn't (and Ali gets after me EVERY single time. I'm working on that, now and forevermore I would assume) and lose my temper and yell. A lot. Though really I don't think yelling is so bad because that's kinda how we communicate. Just ask Tia, she'll tell you all about us non-Italian Italians.
There are days that go by when I think at the end of the day that the word God was not said nearly enough. Or even at all. We get busy and Life goes on. And it's WRONG. And I feel this gnawing guilt in my stomach and I feel even less adequate. And I see these moms, you know the ones... With their perfect hair and their beautifully dressed, polite, well behaved kids and their blogs about Jesus and Christianity and all of these wonderful things and I think I'll never stack up.
But you know what? I can't EVER stack up. I've realized that I'm measuring myself against the wrong things. I shouldn't be measuring myself against other moms, or families or whatever. I'm supposed to be measuring myself against Christ, and I will NEVER, EVER, EVER stack up there. And that's okay, because He came here for a reason. He certainly didn't go through all that he went through for nothing. He died because He KNEW we didn't measure up. He knew that the old law wasn't enough, that we couldn't do it. And He came here because God wanted him to save us. And if we choose it, if we choose to follow Christ, to declare Him to be the son of the Most High God, to be fully immersed in the waters of baptism for the remission of our sins, then He will save us. For that I am so very, very grateful.
I am a Christian. I was baptized for the remission of my sins at the age of 8 (that's kinda young, but here I stand). I fail. I falter. I fall. I sin. A LOT. And I know that. And I know that I'm not enough. Even now, right now, there is guilt chewing at me because I didn't say a prayer with Dylan before he fell asleep...
But this verse, it gives me hope. This verse is so powerful that my heart flutters when I read it, because maybe, just maybe, it's okay.
12 “And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul,13 and to keep the commandments and statutes of the Lord, which I am commanding you today for your good?
All He wants us our love and obedience.
I think I can do that. If nothing else I can keep trying until the day that I die.
I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.