I randomly thought of a quote from one of my favorite movies, “Dead Poets Society,” and it fits perfectly with how I’ve been feeling. A major theme of that movie is how these young, smart, talented boys are expected to fit in a certain box, look a certain way, and do certain things. Their only way of getting out of that box is to re-create The Dead Poets Society. And for those of you who have watched the movie as much as I have, you’ll recall when Charlie Dalton writes his own expression of poetry and says that he’s “gotta do more, gotta be more”. That perfectly describes me.
Throughout this pregnancy, I’ve really been aware of my stress level. Stress raises my blood pressure, and thankfully, I have very, very low blood pressure to start out with. Yet with this baby, the goal is to keep it low. So as I was wrestling with Ryder this morning, trying to not stress that his running, hiding, and fighting me were all making us late to work, forgetting to grab a lunch for us, noticing how the house is a mess (again), Zoyz is moping (again), and I’m exhausted and not keeping up with everything right now. And my usual mode of kicking myself, worrying about things that I have no control over, and just generally making myself unhappy kicked in. I finally got Ryde into the car, prayed over Z as we were leaving, and just thought Lord, I can’t do this anymore. I’m way beyond tired. And then He again reminded me that indeed, His grace is sufficient. I then gave Him all the reasons why yes, it is, but still can I have a break?! 🙂 Can I please go to the beach and sleep for once?!
And then a few hours later, the quote from the movie hit me, and I had the revelation that I am my own worst enemy (just as Mark always says). I am the only reason for being unhappy. I push, push, push, and expect everything to be perfect. Nothing in this life, but Jesus, is perfect. And more than that, I live with a wonderfully gracious, kind, patient husband who never asks for perfection. He just wants a happy, relaxed wife, and yet I can’t ever seem to be that. And it’s my fault. I have to just breathe. This baby needs me to just breathe. He needs nothing more than a mom who just enjoys this time of carrying him. Ryder needs a mom who doesn’t get bent out of shape because he’s just being a toddler. And Mark needs to come home to a wife who’s not moody but just allows him to love on her. Yes, our circumstances are trying, and life is not the way we want it. But it’s our life. And it’s meant to be enjoyed as we are still blessed beyond measure. We serve a good God who wants to simply love on us. But how can He if I’m rushing here, rushing there, pushing, running, stressing, worrrying, and wearing myself out? So as humbling, embarrassing, and yucky as it is to admit, I get it. I’m giving up the “gotta do more, gotta be more” mentality. I’m just going to be me, which right now is tired, big, and doing enough with caring for a toddler and working. May 2011 be the year of joy and rest for me.
And maybe the baby should actually be named some variation of joy and rest?? Just a thought . . .