A week ago, August and I went to watch Adam play hockey. He plays in a local adult league every week. He has played hockey since he was in middle school. He enjoys the sport and the exercise. It's a good break for him from the work week. August and I usually don't go since it has been so cold, but we decided we would go watch him last week since it was the play-offs.
As August and I were sitting in the stands waiting on the game to start, some young college-age girls started pouring into the stands with a few guys mixed in. The scent of the girls' perfumes mixed in the air as they walked past us. I watched them as they got in their seats. They were talking about the restaurant they had just left and what they would be doing after the hockey game, where would they go, who they would go with, etc. I noticed their hair in intricate braids, messy buns, and smooth curls. The smell of lip gloss spread through the air as they touched up their makeup. I noticed how their nails shined with polish in the bright arena lights. Their dangly earrings and new boots indicated that they had other places to go besides a hockey game. They looked flawless. Their laughter filled the stands as they joked about the latest gossip. I wondered what it was like to be them.
I had forgotten about that life. I used to be able to decide on a whim where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. My middle name was Spontaneity. I stayed out late, went wherever I wanted, and slept in until noon. I used to have all the time in the world to get ready. I used to have clear skin. I used to be thinner. I used to have money to spend on fashionable clothing from the mall. I used to wear lip gloss until my son started smearing it across my face. I used to wear perfume until my pregnant nose got to where it couldn't handle the scent of it. I used to try to fix my hair in different styles years ago. I used to be them. I used to be free to go and do and be. I used to have fun like that.
I looked down at myself. I was wearing maternity jeans (at 8 weeks pregnant), Walmart slip-ons, a jacket from 7 years ago, my hair style was leftover from the day before, and I had a little bit of foundation left on my face from that morning. No mascara, no lip gloss, no nail polish. I felt embarrassed. I felt washed-up. I felt like a "has-been" even though I looked like a "never-even-was."
Do you ever struggle with that? You feel like you used to be somebody? You used to "have a life." You used to have a free life. A fun and glamorous life. You used to make your own schedule. You used to wear impractical clothing because you didn't have to think about being able to chase your kids around.
I don't make my schedule anymore. August makes my schedule. My day works around his day- when he's hungry, when he naps, when he gets a bath, when he goes to bed. I wear comfortable clothing because it drives me nuts (and scares innocent bystanders) when my butt is hanging out of my pants, or my shirt is half way up my back. I rarely get to wear lip gloss because August smears it off my face, and I rarely paint my nails because they never have time to dry because I'm soon off taking care of the next thing. Maybe I will paint them tonight just for fun. We will see.
But you know what? I also remember when I was one of those girls. I remember that life. I used to have that life. And you know what? I was lonely. So lonely. On the outside, it looked like I had my life together. I was dating off and on......mostly on......but I was still lonely. I was a professing believer in God, but I was not acting like one. I knew what I really wanted though. I wanted so badly to have a Christian husband, a home of our own, kids, I wanted to be a stay-at-home-mommy. That's what I really wanted. I didn't want the life I had. It felt like I was just passing the time. It felt very temporary and unfulfilling. It felt empty and cold.
It was funny seeing those girls. It was like looking back in time at myself. To me, those girls look like they have everything. But remembering what it's like to be them, I realize that I have everything. I now have a real relationship with Jesus Christ, I have a Christian husband named Adam, a beautiful, humble home with everything I need, a gorgeous son named August whom I get to stay at home with every single day, and another sweet baby on the way. I have it all. I "have a life." (Please understand that those girls very well may have a relationship with God, I don't know, but I am just reflecting back on my life at that time.)
I still have to stop myself from longing for the care-free, all about me, lifestyle from the past. But it was so nice to have that reminder last week that even when I did have that life, it wasn't what I wanted. I am trying to remember that this is the life I really wanted. I have the prize. I have the fulfilled life. I'm sure Satan will continue to throw the lie at me that there is more out there that I am missing out on, but I will do my very best, with help from the Lord, to let him know that I am right where God intended for me to be. This life may be harder day to day, but it has eternal rewards that I can't see right now. But I have faith that God will multiply my daily efforts to make this life completely incomparable to the life of my past. I will hold onto that promise that if I lose my life here and now, I will gain it for eternity.
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Another beautiful post. Thank you for sharing and I too can relate to this very situation. God Bless.
ReplyDelete:) Lacy P.
Thank you, Lacy! :)
DeleteVery good post! And YES I feel like that all the time. The intricate braids in their hair! And nail polish! What about shaved legs? LOL. I always "wish" I could be like that too, I miss it and I start to feel embarrassed about my eyebrows, long overdue for a plucking. Then I look at my girls and I don't know what I'm thinking! I grew up with a mom who cared more about that stuff than being a mom (so it seemed to me at the time), and I promised myself I would never be that way.
ReplyDeleteI am so excited for you guys, expecting a second!! I love pregnancy and babies so much, I am already longing for another. :) Can't wait to keep reading.
Thank you so much for commenting, Kendra! I'm so glad I'm not the only one who feels this way. It's hard not to compare yourself. "Comparison is the thief of joy," that's a Pinterest statement that's definitely true. Thank you so much for reading!
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