The Woman my Younger Self would be Proud Of

I got to spend time with my best friend since 5th grade this weekend.  It was precious time.  She gets me since we've known each other so long.  And she loves me.  Despite all my flaws.  Seeing someone that you've known that long makes you take mental account of your life.  What have I been doing since we first met?  Have I changed for the better?  Who was I?  Who am I now?  But mostly...have I become the woman that little girl would be proud of?

I snuggled up to my mom in church yesterday.  Something I used to do often before I had kids.  I was crying a bit harder than I was comfortable with during one of the songs and she never lets me cry alone in her presence.  I knew it was safe to make her aware of my tears.

My mom doesn't love to be in the limelight.  She would rather just help out behind the scenes ... assisting her family to succeed in the world. She is amazing.

She is someone I would be proud to have become.

Unfortunately, I've not done well with developing into someone like my mom.  I've taken my stress and turned it into instability.  I'm hard on my kids.  They have seen me at my very worst...despite my attempts to hide it.  (There are just times you can't quite hide the fact that you are crying loud enough for the neighbors to hear even though you're in the bathroom with the door shut and the bath water running...though I like to pretend that is enough noise to distract them.)  They have seen me be irrational.  They've overheard conversations they should not have about their father.  They've heard their dad and I argue.  They've seen me lose it because they spilled something.  I've not been a stellar single parent.

The beauty of life is that every morning when the sun rises, you get a re-do.  Today I get to choose whether I allow life to pee in my cereal or whether I allow it to serve me with a piece of buttery toast w/ jam.  I get to choose.  I get the chance to snuggle my mom often like I used to.  I get the chance to speak softly to my kids instead of yell.  I get the chance to praise them instead of criticize them.  I get the chance to bring joy into the house I'm cleaning instead of anxiety.  I get another chance to speak kindly to strangers, to listen to music that uplifts my soul instead of songs that dampen my spirit.  I can choose to be hopeful instead of jaded.

My dad preached on the woman at the well yesterday.  With her 5 husbands and current, live-in boyfriend.  I get her.  She was obviously a "sinner" in her village...as am I.  She was going to the well at a time when no one else goes so she can hide her shameful presence.  But Jesus saw through it and spoke directly to her pain.  Though it doesn't say so in scripture, I would assume she was not without tears during this conversation.

My friend/bartender asked if I was OK when I was picking up food from my favorite bar.  She saw something in my face after I interacted with someone that made her question my peace of mind and had the wherewithal to ask me.  "No, I'm not OK," I replied.  And the tears came and I quickly left.
Her simple question about my well being was a little piece of heaven in an unlikely place.  But she was intuitive and kind enough to see my pain and check on me.

She is someone I would be proud to become.

I want to be like my mom and like my friend... like Jesus.  I want to be able to live in a way that causes me to tune in to others and their needs instead of focusing on my own.  I want to be able to show my boys what it means to care for others instead of worry about yourself so much so that you can't see your own feet, you're so pregnant with worry.

Thankfully, today is a new day.  And it is beautiful outside.  And I have another chance to become the woman my 10 yr. old self would be proud of.  I have the chance to become like my mom.  Like my friend.  Ultimately, like Jesus.  Thank you, God for another chance to get it right.   Even if for just today...

We sang this song in church.  My Aunt Becky sings it beautifully.  All around appropriate.

FILL MY CUP, LORD
Like the woman at the well, I was seeking

For things that could not satisfy.

And then I heard my Savior speaking—

“Draw from My well that never shall run dry.”

 

Fill my cup, Lord;

I lift it up Lord;

Come and quench this thirsting of my soul.

Bread of Heaven, feed me till I want no more.

Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole....