As I sit here, winding down for the night, raindrops hitting my window, the light outside growing dimmer and dimmer, I'm tempted to brood about the ways I failed today.
You see, I'm a good girl.
Good girls think they have to be "on top of it all" constantly. They have to be successful (read: not fail) in the things they have to do. They have to always say the right things, do the right things, be the right person.
And when they can't, their flesh puts on a mask. A mask of confidence, cheerfulness, self-sufficiency, independence.
Like the raindrops outside fall to the ground and form puddles on our gravel driveway, so I nearly melted into my own miserable little puddle this afternoon. I'm taking a summer class and, for this English, history, and art-lovin' girl, math is hard. May I even venture to say I dislike it....most passionately.
I spent several rather frustrating hours this afternoon trying to solve word problems, simultaneously trying to find the answer and beating up on myself for not "getting it."
My problem?
Good girls think they can do it on their own.
The truth?
I am not sufficient to think anything (read: absolutely, positively nothing) is of myself.
I don't like admitting something is hard for me. I don't like asking for help.
It is then, after I finish my little episode of sighs and throwing-hands-in-the-air, that my Heavenly Father taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that He's been here all along, willing to help and waiting for me to ask.
"The truth is, admitting weakness is the very doorway the Lord uses to lead a tired good girl to a place of rest" (Emily Freeman,
Grace for the Good Girl).
I mentally nod. "You already know that truth," my mind goes. "So why didn't you act on it? You did what you know you shouldn't do and you didn't do what you know you should have done, so you really failed twice." And so my female emotion-driven thoughts go. Yet, as Emily Freeman reminds, "Our fluctuating humanness is there on purpose, to remind us of our need and draw us to the One who can meet it."
He is there. He knows my weaknesses. He knows I am but dust -- a fading flower and a infinitesimal speck in the great expanse of time.
He is the One working in me, "both to will and to do of His good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13).
His grace is still there, even though I may feel like I will crumble in the face of a daunting math problem. His grace is always all-sufficient, no matter how big or small my troubles may seem. He is willing to help me, no matter what size my crisis. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13). Nearly everyone has that verse memorized, but do we honestly, truly believe it?
I know all these things, but how often I forget them.
"The challenge comes in knowing what to do in the midst of the smoke, in remembering that my identity is secure in Christ even if my emotions imply otherwise, and in setting my mind on truth even when it doesn't seem to make sense....As good girls, it is generally easy to resist the big stuff. The challenge comes in the everyday, living-life things. When the truth doesn't
feel true is when we begin to believe it isn't. Satan's biggest, most effective weapon against good girls may not be lust or slander or adultery or addiction. It is forgetfulness" (Emily Freeman).
The challenge is to hold fast to the truth, to remember the lessons learned, the prayers answered, and the promises given. How thankful I am that He is faithful.
