Finding my true self . . . again.



I know that life is a series of learning experiences.
We figure out some great life-lesson and then learn and relearn that lesson in diffrerent ways because life is ALWAYS changing.
And without fail, there is ALWAYS something to learn.

Over the past few weeks I found myself turning into a freakish nazi-mom.  I'm not exaggerating!  It was all in the name of self-preservation.  I felt this dictatorial force come over me.  I needed absolute control because I couldn't handle a mess or an idea different from my own.  Here was my mindset: don't ask any more from me than I am giving.  Be grateful with what you have.  Don't whine.  Don't complain.  Do what I tell you, or you're dead meat (figuratively, of course).  Zero tolerance.  They would ask to do things and I would say NO, 90% of the time.  My poor kids.  Innocent victims to their crazy mother's tirades and unrighteous dominion:). 

The more I look at it, I'm thinking hormones must have played a roll.  A big roll.  But at the time it just felt like life.  Like this was the person I was morphing into.  YIKES.  I felt mean . . . because I was.  Isn't that sad?  My poor kids, I'm sure, were wondering where their fun, spontaneous mother had gone and if she'd ever come back.

Well, I think I am.  Back, that is.  In quiet moments with myself I kept asking, WHY?  Why are you needing this control?  Why are you angry and mean for no reason?  Why can't you just love and let it go?  Why can't you remember that they are KIDS, for crying out loud?  And then I felt this heavy weight of guilt that I was, little by little, pushing my kids away from me, instead of drawing them towards me.  That was scary.  They ARE my life.  They ARE my joy.  And I lost sight of that . . . temporarily.

I woke up yesterday with a fresh perspective.  Finding charity again.  Real charity.  Loving with the Lord's help.  I hadn't been asking for His help.  I was trying to carry it myself.  That NEVER works.  Duh.  I know that.  And the miracle of it all is that when I ASK for His help, he gives it.  Freely.  It's not hard because He WANTS to help . . . if I'll just ask.  Duh, again.  And the days are better.  The challenges of each day are there, but my ability to consistently handle them effectively and with love is VASTLY improved.

So, goodbye, nazi-mom.  Hello, Me!  Glad to have you back.