Seeing Beyond the Challenges
I wrote this sometime in November 2015, probably in tears. I want to publish it now because I think it’s a great example that when we are in the midst of our trials, things seem impossible. However, when we look back, we often realize that what we thought were insurmountable challenges were actually just slight detours onto the Road of Manageable but Difficult Circumstances.
I made a heartbreaking realization tonight: Motherhood doesn’t come easily to me.
ife has been difficult lately. Even writing that I feel guilty. I live such a blessed life. How can I complain? But. I have had a first class ticket on the Struggle Bus.
I’m not sure why I feel like everything is falling apart right now, but it is. Maybe it has something to do with hunting season, and Dustin’s continual absence. Or maybe it has something to do with Dustin’s recent placement into the Young Men presidency at church, and this compounding on his aforementioned absence. Or maybe it’s that I haven’t gotten a full night of uninterrupted sleep in about six months. Or maybe it’s that I have a three-year-old.
Whatever the cause, I am struggling. Struggling to be kind. Struggling to show gratitude. Struggling to be patient. Struggling with just about everything.
Now some women can fight through these trials with grace and dignity. Not I. Some women are naturally maternal. Not I. Some women are naturally selfless. Not I. I have to work hard at being a mother and think of the needs of my children, and I don’t always accomplish it.
The worst part of the struggling is that I keep telling myself to stop complaining because others have more difficult trials. But you know what? This is still pretty hard. Why do we try and make trials objective? Hard is relative, and for me, motherhood is hard.
Present-day Tiffany again. I didn’t end the post with any uplifting conclusion at the time because I couldn’t see one. I only saw the hardship. So my present-day conclusion echoes my present-day introduction:
Looking back on this trial, I have a hard time even defining it as one. It was small, but I made it huge primarily because I was exhausted. I doubted myself, when I should have had complete faith that I would make it out alive.
I should also mention that life began to look less bleak than the picture I painted in November after I took a series of parenting classes. I learned techniques and tools to better equip myself to be a more patient, calm, sane mother. So my advice would be that if you need help, get it. It might be as simple as taking a parenting class or asking a spouse to pitch in more with household chores. Or the more challenging task, it might mean easing some expectations for yourself (often that is the hardest for me to accomplish). But overall, my hope is that you realize that you are more capable and fabulous than you know.