Title of Liberty

Sunday was my favorite day of the week until last year. And now because of Sundays half of my Mondays are still kind of yuck. I'm almost Garfield. I almost hate Mondays.

It's because Sunday is the day I relive every minute of Young Womens trying to ascertain what I did wrong, what I could be doing better, who needs extra help, why no girls give me hugs, why almost no girls give me eye contact, and why I come away from that last hour feeling so empty when I'm giving it my all.

That kind of reflection is a gateway to reminding myself that I've only exercised once since January 1, still stink at sewing zippers, give bad haircuts, am addicted to sugar, can't wake up early, am afraid to drive in the snow and why did we move to the top of a mountain, feel tight even in stretchy jeans, hate making lunch for my kids which means I must hate my kids, and haven't cracked the spine of the Avoiding Awkward Conversations strategy book I bought at Education Week (which means awkward apologies shall perpetually remain on my forecast till the end of time). Plus Ari doesn't know how to handle any type of raw meat and is ill-prepared for college and will likely become a vegetarian due to my lack of mothering.

Sometimes I just feel like a failure even though I hide it with general happiness.

Luckily for me January has been wide open now that the stocking and Book of Mormon are finished, so I had time to view all the lists and memos on my phone. And guess what I found? A timely old note I made from a class taught by one of Lone Peak High School's therapists:

FAILURE IS A MAN-MADE TERM

This therapist, Tawnie Sloat, said nowhere in the scriptures can you find God referring to man as a failure. In fact, fail is only used in faileth, as in charity never faileth. So if God doesn't see us as failures we shouldn't see ourselves (or anyone else) as failures.

This gave me hope. I promptly removed the zipper foot from my sewing machine, snapped on the presser foot, and with $4 of felt (and Everett on my lap removing pins as we went) knocked off the banner from Magnolia I've had my eye on. Because I needed the reminder big time.

YOU WERE BUILT FOR THIS

I am not a failure! This is what growth looks like! Heavenly Father sent me to Earth to figure out how to be happy while I work out the kinks! I think my biggest kink is listening to Satan's nonstop whisperings of doom. My lesser kinks will smooth themselves out if I refocus with hope. I can do this. All of it. Even my kryptonite zippers.

Finished banner with Everett's foot.