Being Enough

July 7th, 2005 Mothering, Spirituality

I’m sitting on my bed folding laundry. Sitting while folding is awkward because I have to keep twisting around in a weird way as I reach for the basket and the piles. But I can’t stand up for long because my thigh muscles are on sabbatical today. We took the kids swimming last night and I underestimated the toll of carrying small people around in deep water.

Doing laundry is my only productive endeavor for the day. And that’s been typical. While sitting I try to remember times that I’ve actually been the motivated, organized, creative teacher-mom that I’ve fantasized about for twelve years. Whenever I’m in a slump I tend to think that I’m really dropping the ball, that I’m usually a whole different animal. But I don’t think that’s actually true. That different animal is mostly a mental construct. I hold on to the fantasy as if my devotion to it can compensate for not being it. In reality I’ve had short stints where I’ve come close–I plan, I gather materials, I implement, I nurture and connect, singing as I go–but it doesn’t last long. Inevitably I revert to my usual schlepping mode.

I’m much better these days about accepting myself while in schlepping mode, but as I fold my underwear I’m suddenly panicky about my thoroughly mediocre mothering/homemaking. I haven’t had one of these panic attacks for a while. Luckily I remember what to do.

Please, I pray, let it be enough. Let me be enough. I don’t have anything else I can give. Please tell me that I am safe, and that they are safe, despite all I lack.

And God replies: It is. You are. They are.

This can seem hard to believe. I know how deep and weighty my responsibilities are. How can it really be okay to be so weak and unproductive? But I already know the answer, which rests beneath the muddy river of my rational thoughts:

I become enough, through grace, in the asking.