All or Nothing

My sister came shopping with me last week in order to assist me in redecorating my back porch that has conveniently become a catch-all for broken chairs and a place where plants go to die.  Em had the thought that the space would be perfect as a reading room, with an arm chair, a lamp, a bookcase, some art and a cheery view of my garden.  Walking through Home Goods, she pointed out things I would have never noticed otherwise and said, things like,

"This is perfect!"

"This would look great! With this rug, see?"

She pointed out an armchair, an ottoman, a magazine rack, a large canvas map of Paris.  I don't think in visuals.  I don't redecorate.  I'm surprised I match, and when I do, it's more often a fluke.  I do, however, think in dollar signs, and the more she pointed the more I tallied and the more I tallied the more panicky I became until I finally had to stop my voice from wavering when I told her that I couldn't afford all of this stuff.  She looked at me plainly for a moment, laughed a little, then said, "Wow, you really are all or nothing, Jen.  You buy a piece at a time, over a few months until the room is finished and then you pick another room."

All or nothing.

It was the first time I realized that I am , in fact, all or nothing.  If I want a BLT, but I have everything but the lettuce in the house (which is my least favorite part), I WILL NOT make it.

Can't afford the sushi for lunch I crave desperately? I won't eat.

I will not try any athletic sport/event because I know I will not be able to do it well, and if you can't do it well, don't do it at all.

I will not sing unless it's a song that moves me, in a place I've decided upon, for people I've deemed worthy.

I will not go to graduate school unless I can get into the three schools I want.  Can't get in? I won't go.

Once I have committed myself to something, you would have to drag me away screaming long after it was dead.

I do not let go.  I do not hold back.

When  I make decisions, they are big and often coupled with others.  Quit a job? Have a baby? Move across the country? Change professions? Why not all at once?

There are reasons why I am thankful for this trait.  It has made me a dedicated, compassionate person, for one.  But it has hurt me deeply in two areas specifically.  One is in Motherhood.  The other, is with God.

It kills me daily that I cannot be the Mother that I want to be.  The one who gets all the shopping done and never misses a phone bill, who cooks organic dinners from scratch and plays educational games with her child while maintaining a career, a life and passions of her own.  I want to juggle it- to be the smiling Mama on instagram with an iced coffee while her gleeful child runs in the park, all the while holding on to the threads of my life that existed before she came.   I will gladly sacrifice anything and everything that is necessary to raise El properly- I want to give it all to her.  But when I do, I feel lost, and a little resentful to her as the pieces of my being scatter beneath her, to make a soft place for her to rest.  All or nothing.  I have tried to her all, and it left me feeling broken and cold and not a very good Mama at all.

I can't remember the last time I sang anything.  Or wrote anything.  Or cooked anything from a recipe that I massaged into my own.  Or read anything of value that made my heart sing with tenor of the language and the wit of the dialogue.

Those things are all of me, too.  I've withheld them in order to sacrifice for her, and sometimes that's necessary.  Sometimes it's good.  But not all.  It's not all or nothing.  If it was, there would be nothing left to inspire your child.  To show them who you are, and what they are capable of because of it.

My all or nothing has often kept my heart far from God.  I cannot present requests to him unless I have myself together.  Unless I've repented for each and every minute example of my sinful behavior that day.  Until I thank him for the trees and the sun and a roof over my head and food to eat and clothes to wear.  I must be presentable.  I must be mindful.  And humble.  And honest.  I must feel shame and guilt because of how terrible I am.  Then I may present my requests, but never expect an answer, because, you know, it's impossible to do all the right things all of the time.

God doesn't require my all or nothing.  He wants me just the way I am.  In the dirty jeans I'm wearing.  Saying the cuss words or the gossip or the complaining that sometimes eek out of my mouth.  Because the beauty of the rescuer, is that His blood covers me.  When God looks down on me, he doesn't see the sin that I try to right without Him before coming to him, he sees His son, who died for me, to save me.  And he delights in the coming.

I bought an arm chair this week that will look beautiful on the back porch.  And in a few more weeks, I'll buy the ottoman to go with it.  I'm slowly learning, that it's sometimes better not to be all or nothing.  Then, you truly get to enjoy the beauty of things as they come.  As they are.  And the potential of what they could become.