Welcome to my circus.

I don’t care what you think of me. Unless it’s unfavorable.

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I love being part of a book club with other women from my church.  This summer we’re digging into a book that deals with our fears of the opinions of others. If I thought I was immune to that pressure, my kids certainly draw it out of me.  I found that as my oldest child started dressing himself I started overcompensating for his lack of color-coordination by making the younger children extra coordinated with adorable accessories and freshly scrubbed faces.  I did not want anybody to think my sense of style was at all represented by the preschooler on my left.

And I was devastated when my five year-old was asked by his pediatrician during his Kindergarten physical what kind of good, healthy, big boy foods he likes to eat.  He looked at her with a blank stare and then answered, “Oh!  Hamburgers.  And coffee.”  Apparently I’ve been wasting my money on all the organic carrots and strawberries because this child only remembers ever eating fast food and the one time I let him sip my coffee.  I felt so humiliated and just wanted to melt into the floor.

Being a mother is definitely an exercise in humility and it’s a great way to give you constant practice on giving up this fear that you have to look like a perfect person.  And when I can truly give that up, then in my struggles and in my triumphs people can see Christ in me instead of seeing a woman vainly trying to hold it all together.

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