"When I can't receive Your love
Afraid I'll never be enough
Remind me who I am
If I'm Your beloved,
Can You help me believe it?"
~Jason Gray, from the album "A Way To See In the Dark"
I have a lot of roles. Most of us do. We're parents and children and spouses and employees and friends and volunteers. And. And. And. So, I'm sure I am not alone in sometimes feeling like I am doing a lot of things, and none of them particularly well. Always doing more and always seeming to end up with less. Contemplating my work-life balance can be like deciding, "Who will I let down today?"
I try to tell myself that I am confident enough to be OK with this. And sometimes I am. And sometimes I worry that my young daughter will be scarred by not having a mommy who can get her hair into a perfect, flyaway-free ponytail topped with the perfect, big, cheerleader-worthy bow (painlessly). Or that if I gave up that 20 minutes of relaxing Pinterest surfing at bedtime, I might be able to use that time to learn Spanish or develop some cool new activity for my students. Or that if I could just say the right thing, my 13-year-old -- my firstborn! The one who used to think everything we did together was amazing! -- might go a whole day without rolling her eyes at me. Or. Or. Or.
With my ongoing interior monologue and busy schedule, it's no wonder I didn't pay a lot of attention to the announcement in the church bulletin about the "God Is!" retreat coming to St. Vincent de Paul. Then I got a call from Father Dave asking if I would help with one of the presentations that day. Of course I would help. But it would take all day. My Saturdays are usually divided up with a long run for me, swim practice for the kids, laundry folding and other chores or errands, but I wanted to help, so I penciled in the retreat on my calendar.
I was one of the youngest people in attendance. As I looked at the saints I was surrounded by, I wondered why they would come to a retreat. Didn't they have it all figured out by now? Weren't they about as good as they could be?
Well, when we broke into small groups, I discovered that wasn't the case. I don't know if I should have been relieved or troubled that folks twice my age were still struggling to get it right. But then we would go over to church and I would feel comforted -- because as I prayed and sang with people I see every Sunday, it was the first time I really knew they were imperfect like me. And God loved us all.
Yes, the retreat was a gift I would not have given myself if I had not been asked to help with it. Now it is one of the "happy places" I go to when I am stressed. When I attended World Youth Day in Denver the summer before my senior year of high school, I commented after we attended a welcome ceremony for Pope (now Saint) John Paul II that you need a "lemon cream pie experience" like that to inspire you to at the least make lemonade when life gives you lemons. So, like the view of ocean waves I conjured when I was breathing through the contractions of labor, I try to recreate the peace I felt at the retreat when the "not good enough" refrain returns in my head. I'm not perfect. I have a long way to go. But if I can have enough moments where I am reminded that I am beloved, I think I will make it.
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About Brooke
Brooke Clubbs is a Jackson mom of three, a freelance writer and a communications instructor.
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