Inadequacy. . .

Choice:

Choose to dwell on the fact that Jacob wrote his name on his Sunday pants while we were blissfully enveloped in the Steven Curtis Chapman concert

or

Choose to dwell on the fact that I totally fail at the respect part of Emerson Eggerich's great Love & Respect concept

or

Choose to dwell on the fact that JD has apparently not been obeying his Sunday School teachers for some time now

or

Choose to dwell on why Cambria *still sucks her thumb*

or

Choose to worry if I can let myself love another baby

or

Choose to be frustrated that my husband bought me a super nice expensive razor (I do shave my legs, that wasn't a hint from him) instead of something that I would rather have. (Men and their gift choices never cease to amaze me)

or

I can choose dependence on Christ.

I can thank Him that I have a concrete (or rather, ink) opportunity to train my son.

I can be thankful for a husband that I can respect.

I can be thankful that I have the awareness and ability to teach my son to obey authorities in his life.

I can thank God for a sensitive daughter who needs me and needs love.

I can trust that perfect love casts out fear and know that God will fill my heart with the love I need to care for my little people

I can enjoy a super nice razor and enjoy the card my man got for me that tells me I am appreciated and loved (even though I feel so, so inadequate).

Inadequate is a good place to be; I realize that it's not about me.  It's not about my skills.  It's not about my wisdom, and definitely not my parenting.  Inadequacy forces me to the Cross and to acknowledge that it's about Him.

Note:

When I found the ink name, I brought the pants to Jacob and he looked dutifully guilty.  I told him he would have to help me scrub it out among other things.

"Mom."

"Yes, Jacob."

"Look in the pocket."

{I look.  Crumpled up note.  Misspelled words.}

Mom as so [backward "s"] god too me. Love [backward "l"] Jacob

"It says mom is so good to me."

Big brown eyes.

Hopeful for forgiveness.

I melt.

Thanks, God, that You model forgiveness and give me so much hope for my inadequacy.  Let me live that kind of love and model that forgiveness to my children.