I've done a really great job this week feeling like a failure. Nothing too major, but moments keep happening when I become extremely disappointed in myself. It all started this past weekend on choir tour when I felt uncontrollably upset about a situation that, frankly, I couldn't do anything about. During my attempts to explain how I felt, I kept stumbling over my words and saying things that I didn't mean. And later, during my fits of trying to sleep on the floor in a freezing cold room, I remembered that I had failed to put in a sub request for the work shift I was going to miss the next day. Whoops. Also on the list of not-so-fine moments this week have been the time where I watched Hulu instead of writing a paper, neglected to practice piano for the fifth day in a row, and pushed the wrong buttons on the washing machine thereby sending my hopefully-not-so-delicate sweaters and things to a warm water wonderland. For (hopefully) the grand finale, I woke up a whopping two and a half hours late this morning. I slumbered straight through the time I was planning on using for a shower, breakafast, piano practicing time (to make up for all the days I missed), and I also missed my first half hour of work. How does that even happen? It usually doesn't happen to me. I didn't even stay up late last night.
This week, I am celebrating my second week of non-biology-education-major-ness. Because of all the classes I dropped, I only have eight credits to complete this semester. That's not even full-time student status. Yet somehow, I'm just as busy as ever. I keep wasting time. People keep telling me that it's okay to relax, but somehow I just can't believe that it's okay to take this much relaxation. I keep refusing to trust the people closest to me. And that makes me feel even worse.
I guess the reason that I feel so bad about all these little failues is because I expect a lot from myself. I have spent most of my life, especially my college life, working extremely hard. People always tell me how responsible I am, and how they appreciate the fact that I will complete any task I am given. Praise like that does great things for self-esteem and even better for motivation. But for me, it's pressure. And most of the pressure is self-inflicted. That's what I have trouble realizing. How much is too much? How much can I not do and it still be okay? Where is the line between relaxing and lazy?
So here I am, feeling like a screw-up... but inside, I know that I am still
August 21, 2012
...still what? Still a daughter of the King. Still chosen and loved by God. Still breathing only because of Christ's unending grace. Still alive in Jesus Christ. Still powered by the Holy Spirit of the Lord who dwells within me. That is who I am. And because of those things, I have joy. My identity lies not in my successes or my failures, but in my risen Savior who brought me out of death and saved me from myself, from a meaningless life, and from eternity in hell. And He has blessed me with the privilege to share my hope and my identity with others. Such a life could not be farther away from failure.
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