Laughing at myself

I make myself laugh sometimes. It is not because I can tell a good joke. I’m horrible at that. I can help if you ever are in need of a sarcastic comment but not if you need me to tell you a joke or story in any logical order.

What I chuckle at is my ability to set ambitious goals and then feel disappointed that I failed to meet my probably-too-high expectations. I expect to keep a tidy, joy-sparking house in spite of the fact that five busy humans and two rowdy chinchillas live here. I expect to avoid eating out because I should be preparing our meals. I expect to be a never-let-you-down employee despite the fact that I am a part-time employee with full-time responsibilities. Can you be your own “tiger mom?”

Occasionally, I’ll shine the light of reality into my life. What am I striving for? Who am I hoping to please? I really don’t know sometimes. I’ve piled up the duties without remembering the purpose. My lips remind me that I don’t need to do it all but my heart is skeptical. I’ve put my trust in my ability to accomplish tasks rather than resting in grace.

I try to release my expectations but then realize that in itself is a task to accomplish. Have I allowed myself to be messy today? Check. Did we scrounge up something for dinner? Check. Did I say “no” to attending an additional meeting or taking on a project at work? Check. Have I shown love to my family? Check.

It’s no surprise that I bump up against the same disappointment. I need a radical change–not in my actions but in my heart. My heart needs to know the One who holds all things together. The One in whom I can never comprehend but knows me completely.

When my heart knows the One in whom I can rest, there is a lightness. Burdens are lifted. Sure the tasks remain but they no longer hold me hostage. The laughter of chagrin is replaced with peace.

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