tomorrow I’ll post photos of our Christmas tree cutting adventure and der Tannenbaum in all it’s glory. I want to record it before Christmas to preserve that memory. But today I want to write, because it feels disingenuous to document only the beautiful moments. I photograph to watch my kids grow, but I write to watch myself grow.
The voice haunts me at night.
I settle into my soft bed, down comforter, one pillow, alarm set for 5:30 a.m. So tired, always so tired. I’ve been aching for my bed since lunchtime and my body begs for blessed sleep.
But the voice whispers, “Not good enough. Not good enough.” And every neglected task, forgotten phone call, poorly prepared lesson and unpaid compliment swash and spar through my mind.
On the rare nights I manage to elude the nagging voice at bedtime, it infects my dreams and startles me awake in a sweaty panic. “Not good enough. Not good enough.”
Most people, when they hear I’ve been called as Young Women’s President over some 50 girls, exclaim, “Oh you’re perfect for that job!”
But with others, I can see the look in their eyes, “Why on earth did they choose you?”
The words are unsaid but I want to reply, “I have absolutely no idea.”
Oh, I know I have my good points, but leadership isn’t one of them. I’m naturally reserved and my voice doesn’t carry across a room; I blush when the attention is on me. I’m extremely disorganized. Thankfully, my mother left me her iphone and it’s been literally heavensent with it’s calender and appointment alarms and texting-for-dummies ability. But still, I envy the innate faculty to keep lists and plan menus and remember promises without writing them down.
I’m creative, but not crafty. I’m extremely immature. But worse, I tend to say really stupid things. Really. Stupid. I constantly have to clarify and apologize because, you know, writers tend to be people that don’t talk so good. I’ve often thought I’d make a good nun because a vow of silence would do me a lot of good– especially in the early morning hours.
I think the voice is louder and keeping me awake at night now because my days are so full. Christmas is a delight and a wonder, but there is scarcely a moment of the day when my children don’t need me. Do we all wonder this time of year if we are enough?
But here is the truth: whether I feel capable or not, I am it. I am the Young Women’s President. I am the mother of six. I am a wife and sister and daughter and friend. And I am a good teacher, and a good listener and I have a great capacity to love. I can usually see the best, the most beautiful in everyone I meet. I find people truly fascinating and I love learning their stories.
My life is rich and full of opportunity and I’m working to overcome my crippling insecurity, to block out that voice that worries and lies and hear instead the words of my husband, my children, my counselors, the voice of God.