Shifting sands

My great challenge seems to be lurching in yet another direction.

For the longest time, it was simply living with myself after I was set free from my abusive cycle and healed from the traumas that conceived it, and it was undeniable what great harm I had done. I thought I'd never get past this alive, and it took an extra round of therapy just to start to accept God's forgiveness.

For the longest time after that, it became something else that I was sure was never going to improve. Suddenly, out of the blue, it has. I felt so lonely for so long, and now I don't. I feel deeply loved, and appreciated.

There was a balance in those feelings, though. I knew that I was doing the best I could, that I was loving with everything I had, and that was good enough. If my own feelings weren't always where I wanted them to be, at least I knew that I was loving with my thoughts and choices and entire will, with everything that was within my control.

And it's still true that I am, and now it isn't good enough. Instead, I'm still all Paul Simon, as I have been lamenting for decades now. She deserves better.

My response to unmanageable situations and feelings that I can't control has always been the same: to self-medicate with the chemicals of my own brain, usually invoking some aspect of the traumas that formed me into the emotional cripple I became. I'm pretty sure that would just nudge me further toward despair, now.

I'm tired of not being the disciple, husband, and man that I am called to be. Being less than my potential has been the constant theme of my life.

I know this is where I'm supposed to renounce the lie that I am not good enough, but I'm having considerable trouble believing it's a lie. Oh, I also should know that it's a lie of reverse pride that my shortcomings and weaknesses could ever outweigh God's strength and Providence.