What grace looks like

Have you ever had a failure kind of week? You know what I'm talking about...the kind where it just seems like you can't do anything right, and all of your flaws and imperfections are screaming at the top of their lungs at you. Despite my cheery disposition and my outpouring of all things emotional deployment, this has been my week. Last night all of these things came to a head in my self and one could say I sort of disintegrated.

I used to have so much "potential". I used to be ear marked for something "big". I used to be smart. I used to have all of the answers. I used to read grown up books. I used to be physically active. I used to dance. I used to have a body that I enjoyed. I used to not be lazy.

My husband and I were in bed, ready to go to sleep. He turned the light off and I have no idea what triggered him to ask me, nor what triggered me to unload, but he said, "Are you okay?" The next thing I knew, everything was coming out. All of these feelings that I had almost forgotten how to experience were flowing out of me. "I used to be somebody. I used to have goals and ambitions. I used to be smart. I used to know how to argue. I used to have something meaningful to say. I used feel useful. I used to fight people when I thought they were wrong. I am so lazy. I am a terrible mother. I'm a horrible wife." He interjected here that I was not a horrible wife, and then I proceeded to tell him how I was. The house has been a mess lately, the dishes not cleaned, I have barely cooked for my family. The stupid laundry hasn't been completed. I am rarely home, and when I am home I am exhausted. I always say the wrong things. I think I make him look bad at his work. I am too outspoken. I feel so unmotivated. I feel so unhappy. I feel so angry with myself, and what am I going to do if he doesn't come home? I can't seem to get things done the right way with him here to help, what the heck am I going to do if he dies?

When my forty five minute self deprivation finally ended, and the crying took over, there was nothing but silence. I thought he might be angry. I think I might have wanted him to be angry with me.

I said, "Are you angry?"
He said, "No. I'm in love."

Grace is the most beautiful of all gifts and the greatest of all comforts. That beautiful man who decided to give me his last name has single handedly, in four words, taken all of my feelings and wrapped them up, covered in grace, and replaced them with love. I am so unworthy. I am so blessed.