We are in the thick of toddler emotion. Knee high and everything an emergency. He cries when he wants something and cries when he gets it. He asks to be picked up and then begs to be set free. And it can be all too easy to grow tense and tired. Our desperation is surely fatigue-inspired but I suspect it’s also a projection of something deeper. “I don’t know what you want. I can’t make you happy.”, I find myself saying. And oh what a loaded statement it is.
The thought sits in between my ears- “What if so much of our frustration all stems from that?”. When I’m an exasperated mother or a moody wife am I really just kicking through an internal struggle of feeling not enough? He can’t help that his teeth painfully pierce through his gums or that he can’t reach the doorknob. And my impatience isn’t really due to those aches either. I feel sad for his pain and long to make his world a brighter place. My mama-heart breaks at the sound of his cry. When I feel like I could pull out my hair or scream at the top of my lungs it is not actually because he is a two foot tall monster. It is because I can’t fix it. I can’t make it all better. I feel at some level as if I am not enough. I am frustrated with inadequacy.
Just as when I feel that I am not getting enough of my Love’s attention or assistance it is not really that he is a villain. It is my soul-cry saying, “Why are you not focusing on me? Why can’t I hold your gaze? Why don’t you want to do this with me and for me?”. All to say, “Why am I not enough?”
And do you see, I feel we place so much blame and frustration wrongly on the souls that we hold dear. When truly it is our own aching doubt and childlike need to feel valued and to be worthy.
We will often fall short in our efforts here. Which is precisely why we mustn’t lose sight of two profound pieces of truth:
That we are loved and held just as we are, unconditionally by the One who made us.
And that holy strength is made perfect in weakness.
It is that broken human condition that opens us wide open for the greatest gift.
Though I can’t always see that clearly in the midst of my own grown up tantrum. I can remember to take pause. To think of the bigger picture and the deeper reasons. I can stop long enough to say a prayer under my tired breath. I can recall in that moment that just as my little one is battling something he can’t quite see, so are we all.
Emmy Goulet 