It was good to see my friend this weekend.  It would have been better if I didn’t feel like I was intruding on her.  This past week had been overwhelming for her.  I’m a pregnant woman surging with hormones and emotions.  I’ve had many fears and frustrations lately which has escaped my mouth in the form of gossip.  I taxed her more and I could sense it.

As I walked out of her apartment and to my car I got the unnerving sense that I’m too unbearable.  I complain, a lot.  I’ve slandered far too many.  I never thought myself as struggling with elitism or piety.  My parents had said I do, but I ignored their cautions because they aren’t pursuing Christ and yet claim to follow him.  See, judgement!  Who am I to question the validity of another’s walk?  When did I become so lofty?

Then the my eye ducts turned on and the faucet of fury kept rushing.  I was angry with myself, angry at her for pointing out my sin and that I needed to stop, and angry that I feel like God hasn’t spoken.  Is it that I’m not listening and he is speaking?

Perhaps I’m too busy critiquing, gossiping, and complaining to notice what God is working in me.  I’m blind.  I know I love Jesus.  If I keep struggling with this and have for many years—easily 7 (before I wouldn’t have identified it as sin because I didn’t follow Jesus)—does that mean I haven’t truly repented and accepted the call of Christ?

How will I ever be a good mom with the waves of depression, the constant struggle with doubt, and the endless slander/gossip I partake in that all stem from insecurity and pride? God’s entrusting a life to me and why should he?  Frank is cut out for this and I’ve yearned for it, but am I meant for it?  I guess so because God’s granting it, but am I?  See, there I go questioning him again.  His grace is sufficient for me and his strength made perfect in my weakness.  Now I only need to get that through my stubborn skull, repent, and let him steer this ship.  I just like control and I don’t feel like I’ve had much for quite some time.  I can’t even control my temper or tongue (in speech (ex: gossip) and taste (I’ve gorged on way too many carbs and sugar through candies and the like)) lately.

He’s sufficient for me and this kid, but will I be a sufficient mother?

I’ve used the word sufficient too much here.


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