The laundry is piled high and there is absolutely no detergent in the house. Somebody please tell me… who runs out of laundry detergent?
He gets home from work, he left at 7:00 am and it’s 5:00 now, and supper hasn’t even been started. Then he’s actually the one who makes it.
Our anniversary was completely forgotten until five days beforehand. Say that has happened to you before?!
Moving date is set for a month away but I have almost the whole house packed up, including his guitar books. Of course they are in the box at the bottom of the pile.
There are papers everywhere and my brain is muddled over all the configurations. He interrupts with a kiss on the head and a shoulder massage meant to relax me. I snap his head off. Am I really that self-preoccupied?
It feels like a gene of womanhood, this competitive trait that brings me to condemnation. I talk with other women and I hear the open confession or the words laced subtly through. Women know how to speak in parables. We get our point across without the exposure of raw vulnerability.
I like how it feels when a sentence starts with that word. It’s like saying, “So maybe I didn’t clean my bathroom in awhile, and I might have gotten so lost in packing that I forgot my wedding anniversary, and I fed my kids cardboard pizza for lunch today, and maybe the dishes sat in the sink for a little too long. now.”
“now there is no condemnation, to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the spirit.” Romans 8:1
Quite possibly the most powerfully freeing words in Scripture.
We don’t have to wear the bad wife t-shirts, because we are not condemned.
Thinking the thoughts of condemnation reaps death.
We are not failures because we ate Ramen noodle soup or can’t remember the last time we swept the floor.
“For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.” Romans 8:2
That womanly competitive gene destroys.
I eat gluten free!
I’m not one of those granola health chics.
You have time to use cloth diapers??
I can’t believe you have money for pampers!
How can anyone not clean their house every week? I find the time to do it.
In the name of discipline, or being intentional, we phrase a million things that we do or don’t do in such a way as to make our way superior. We’re clamoring frantically to be thought of as a good mom, a good wife, a good Christian, a good woman. So when we don’t measure up to our self-imposed standards and all that we’ve done feels like it’s still not enough, we inwardly denounce ourselves and cover up with presentation. We know how to display, don’t we?
I don’t think I have to elaborate on all the ways we do that. How we write ourselves off as being lesser when we listen to someone talk about an accomplishment they made or we sit at the end of a failed attempt, only to turn around and carry on with feigned confidence.
But we don’t have to wear the bad ___________ t-shirt because we are not condemned.
And this frees me from the pressure to perform and the noose of vying for position, to confession and honesty and healing.
Sometimes I have to tell myself that I am not condemned at least once every day, in a week. You too?