the rest of the story

the other day i wrote a facebook status update about this really yummy dinner that i was making. lots of comments were made in response to the update. some of them indicating that i've got it all together. there are a couple funny things that went through my mind as i read them:


1- when i made the post i never even stopped to consider how it would make someone else feel. i didn't consider that for someone who doesn't like to cook it might make them feel inadequate. i never thought about how someone who was pressed for time might feel envious of my "free time". i simply made the post. i put it out there, letting anyone of my "friends" read my update and draw any conclusion that they might. life is like this a lot. people see just one tiny part of a very large whole.


2-as i read the comments i also thought about "the rest of the story". the post indicated that i was making this super fab dinner. from reading it you could possibly conclude that "she's got it all together". but what really happened paints an entirely different picture.

stick with me here.

on tuesday morning i meant to pull some chicken breasts out of the freezer for the dinner i had planned. i remembered that i had forgotten to do this at 3 in the afternoon when i went to prepare our dinner (apple and bacon stuffed chicken breasts in gorgonzola cream sauce, if you must know). i felt a little bit defeated because i knew in that moment that there was no way to defrost and stuff the chicken if the chicken was still frozen. i pulled the chicken out of the freezer and resolved to make that for dinner on wednesday. and then i got down to the business of figuring out what we would have for dinner on THAT day. (i don't remember what we had, but i can guarantee that it was something simple, basic and pretty lame.)

on wednesday at around 3 i went to the refrigerator with a happy smile. i knew that TODAY the chicken was happily waiting for me to stuff- defrosted thank you very much. i got a little glimmer in my eye because i knew dinner was going to be great. each kid was contained and focused on a task and i could safely direct my attention towards getting the chicken stuffed well before the dinner hour. i got down to business. i chopped, i sauteed, i stirred, i stuffed. and it looked good. it smelled delish. when i finished the stuffing process i made a facebook status update about my accomplishment in anticipation of the dinner i was looking forward to.


and then i went on about my afternoon with the girls.


at about 5:15 i looked over the rest of the recipe to see what steps remained. i began to gather up the ingredients for the sauce and at that moment realized that my cream had passed its expiration date. trying to salvage my dinner, i made a quick call to my sister to see what substitutions can be made for heavy cream. unlucky for me, i didn't have those either. and so at 5:30 i decided i was going to have to load up the car for a quick run to the grocery. ugh. three kids, car seats, parking lots, carts with three kids... suddenly my dinner felt less exciting. but off to the store i went in an effort to salvage our dinner. if i got in and out of the grocery in under 30 minutes (door to door) i could still pull off a yummy dinner. difficult task- but not impossible.


i literally walked in the door with three minutes to spare. i hustled the kids in the door, put my head down and got to work. and as i got to work i realized that i had forgotten an entire step in the recipe. i did a quick evaluation and realized that there was no way this dinner was going to make it onto the plate in time. and so with a sad heart i abandoned the chicken, yet again, and moved on to something easier.


thursday came, and while ellie was at school and delaney was napping, i attempted to complete the missing step. i accomplished this- if you can call preparing chicken with a screaming baby in the background an accomplishment. at the proper time i placed the dinner into the oven, perfectly timed so that when scott walked in the door it would be ready to plate. and that all would have been fine had the chicken cooked in the time the recipe had said it would. but it didn't. and so 45 minutes after scott walked in the door, dinner was on the table. e and d were starving and misbehaving by this point and p was screaming her head off. scott and i tag teamed and ate one at a time. and while the dinner was tasty, it was a few days late and not at all enjoyable.


and so there you have it, the rest of the story. it doesn't leave you feeling incompetent or less domestic. it doesn't leave you feeling like a poor manager of time. it doesn't make you feel like less of a mom for putting hamburger helper in front of your babes five nights a week--- or whatever it is you might do at your house. and if you manage to pull off fancy gourmet dishes on a regular basis, it might even leave you feeling a twinge of pride, or accomplishment... or whatever it is that it does in your heart.


i guess the conclusion is that each day, we go about our business and we drop bombs. they might be in a facebook status update, a comment at the park, through our appearances, through our possessions. and these bombs might be harmless, not ill intentioned in any way. but none-the-less they might be bombs to someone. see, we find so much of our worth in what others do. we can make lists of ways in which so and so is better at such and such. we can let our heart be imprinted because our dishes are piled up in the sink and we are sure that the momma next door has hers neatly in the dishwasher... or better yet, washed and back in the cabinet. we can get down because our purse or our mom jeans haven't been updated in three seasons and every time we run into that momma at the park she is stylish and hip in the latest fashions. sometimes people do this to us, on purpose. but most often, i find, we do this to ourselves.


the root of the problem is this. we are our own worst critic. we can extend grace to others but have no idea what it looks like to extend it to ourselves. we receive messages all day long, and let them rewrite the script of our worth. and we define our worth through things that don't really matter.


for me, i know (but often have trouble remembering) that my worth lies in the redeemed child of God that i am. on my own, i am worth nothing... no matter how many apple and bacon stuffed chicken breasts in gorgonzola cream sauce that i can place on the table in front of family and friends. my worth lies solely in the hands of my friend and father, God. because of Him, and the sacrifice He made, i can rest in the fact that on the other side i'll be worth something.

and while i'm here on this side of heaven, my job is to be His hands and His feet in this world. i can't own the interpretations that people make from watching my life but i can set the record straight when the interpretation might be askew. and by doing so, sure, i reveal my own imperfections. by throwing a brick at my own crystal palace, i let people see that i am just me. practically imperfect in every way. and by doing so, i give permission for those around me to do the same. and what's to gain from this? lots! we can walk forward, hand in hand embracing our imperfections. maybe we can even laugh at them together. and together, we can encourage one another. maybe, rather than feeling less than, we can walk away feeling normal.

and maybe, just maybe, we can help point one another in the direction of the One who owns our worth and brings real meaning into our lives.