My turn to share was coming, and I wasn’t ready. While the other women on our Google chat discussed their writing goals, my mind spun on repeat. Summer gave this word a whole new meaning, and I was still processing it.
Ah yes, goals. What were those again? My goal yesterday was to keep the boys playing outside for more than twenty minutes before they came back in screaming from bloodied knees and bumps on heads. Today it was to make it to bedtime without yelling.
Sometimes my goals vary by the hour. It’s my first summer with three kids at home, and my mental capacity seems to wane a little more each minute.
This afternoon, I turned my head to see our eight-month old trying to eat a dart our son left on the floor. (Don’t gasp; it was foam and rubber) Fortunately we were able to dislodge it from her death grip before she added purple styrofoam to her diet.
So, needless to say this Google chat was a welcome diversion where I could talk to other women like an actual adult. I listened to plans about our shared passion for writing and encouraging other women. It was bliss.
But my mind wasn’t on the future. It was on all the ways I’d failed over these summer months. Goals that weren’t met. Timelines that were set and passed.
I sat there listening and secretly thought, “Is it okay if my goal is to survive until school starts?”
When it was my turn to talk, I wondered if I should skip over August altogether. As if reading my mind, one of my friends spoke up.
“You know, Abby, we’ll support you however you need us to. If you just need prayer for strength during a season, that’s ok too.”
I could have cried. Why did I think that in the middle of summer with a new baby, new schedule, and endless distractions, my expectations should somehow remain the same? Everyone seemed to get it but me.
The weight of my own expectations crushed me.
I was buried under them. And I knew it had to stop.
Later that evening, I opened my nightstand and pulled out a treasure these same women sent me the week before my daughter was born: prayers for our sweet Elise. And prayers for me. I read over each one, soaking them in once more and paying particular attention to these words:
“May Abby find rest when rest is due and comfort solely in You.”
No, I wasn’t seeking comfort in Him. I was seeking comfort in items checked off my to do list. I wasn’t resting, but striving and worrying. I was trying my best not to feel invisible. But you know what?
In the middle of all our striving to be visible, we are never invisible to God.
He sees us, loves us and holds us even when we don’t see Him.
Friends, having goals is awesome. I will continue to set them and attain them. But we don’t have to fight for God to notice us. If we are in Christ, he already sees us as his beloved.
Claim it. Believe it. Live like it.
When we do, we can stop fighting for his attention and pour out a love that’s already ours.