After 23 hours of cutting, sewing, ripping out seam after seam, and gluing, (Yes, I glued a small portion of one panel. I am not a professional.) it is finished.
I spent a good portion of my afternoon at the sewing machine, sewing together small triangles and trying to figure out how to make this teepee come together. My fingers fed fabric through the machine as my foot pressed the pedal on the floor and the mindless activity made space for my mind to wander.
The kids ran in and out of the house, eating cheese sticks and pounds of apples, and I answered each request with a mindless response. I answered with more yays than nays and somehow I managed to buy two hours of thinking time.
In my mind, I replayed last night’s bible study and this morning’s school events.
One thought seemed to be screaming the loudest: You’re a fraud.
It’s quite shocking to see those words on the screen. It’s also a painful thing to admit, but it’s shamefully true.
I spend so much time faking my way through each day. I fake my way through American History. I then pretend like I know how to teach math. I make up games and crafts as I fumble my way through the lesson plans each day. I spend half of each day trying to hold it together until the clock chimes 3 times. I discipline this clan of kids by the seat of my pants, but I act like I know what I’m doing. They don’t know they are all guinea pigs, do they? I even faked my way through this teepee project. With each seam ripped, my mind raced to all the ways that I could hide my huge mistakes with ribbon, extra seams, and yes, glue.
I even stumble over words when others ask me about how our ministry is going. (What does that mean anyway? I know I ask people that same question-maybe I should come up with something else…) I smile and feed them a line and then immediately try to evade the question. I hide behind my smile because I really don’t want to go there. It’s too messy and complicated and I don’t really want others to know how much I wrestle with the tough stuff of the heart.
It’s so late and I’m still wrestling with how hard it is to trust Christ when He says I am wonderfully made. It’s hard to look at my tired self in the mirror, day after day, and take all other thoughts captive. It is simply easier to hide behind a smile and six kids.
Believing a lie is easy, but the Truth will set me free.
What about you? You wanna come over and hide with me in the boys’ teepee? I’ve got a lantern.
Maybe, just maybe, if you share your junk and I share mine, we can both stop hiding out.