Upholding Commitments to Ourselves

Matt and I watched “You’ve Got Mail” last week. I had actually never seen the classic rom-com all the way through. If you haven’t seen it, Meg Ryan plays Kathleen Kelly, the owner of a children’s book store which is about to go under due to the opening of a huge corporate bookstore, Fox Books. But the meat of the movie is the correspondence between Ryan/Kelly and her mystery online (AOL! So 90’s) friend (who turns out to be Tom Hanks/Joe Fox, owner of the big bad corporate book store).

One of her late night blurbs to him sounded like a thought I’ve had a thousand times about my life:

Kathleen Kelly: [writing to “NY152”] Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life – well, valuable, but small – and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.

I often wonder how much I could accomplish if I were braver. Do you ever fail to even start something because you assume you don’t have time? Or it’s more fun to talk about than to actually endeavor to do it? My fear comes in the form of starting and not finishing.

I often feel I’m the Queen of Incompletes. I start reading so many books. I finish 20 to 30 percent of them. I’ve vowed to write weekly so many times but making it a routine is so hard. It’s like eating right– you have a streak of good days then you fall off the wagon big time one morning with donuts and decide the day of discipline is over– you’re ruined. Might as well have a Cinnabon for lunch and deep dish pizza for dinner. That line of thinking almost always carries over into the next day/week.

Why is sticking with something so hard? SO few people do it. I think I took that for granted in my years of swimming. I never skipped practice in 13 years of swimming out of laziness. I was dedicated, but never alone. I didn’t realize how much the push of a team can force you into dedication. Independent dedication is a different animal entirely. I don’t think I flake on many dates with friends but I flake on myself all the time. Then I’m left having time-spent remorse..If only I’d used that time more wisely…

I often think about the years before Skylar. What was I doing?! haha. I bounced from career to career and had SO MUCH FREE TIME. So much peace! I worked out all the time. You take for granted that freedom. But I actually feel like I have more structure in my life with Skylar.

Maybe you’ve seen this meme:

Not to downplay the fatigue of any of my dear friends without kids, but living at toddler-pace really does make me fall more heavily into my pillow each night.

Circling back to self-commitment, I guess I’m surprised that a dedicated athlete can come out of sport and struggle to accomplish the goals she writes out for herself; make excuses for herself. I want Skylar to grow up with a mama who doesn’t just follow through on promises she makes to her friends and family, but to herself as well.

One of my primary excuses from pursuing, let’s say a book, is that this is not the right time. This is the time to focus on Skylar. To hold dear every special moment with her and to help Matt have the best twilight years of his swimming career. I’m not trying to sound heroic. This is just how I push my literary ambitions to the back-burner.

But how much time do I spend scrolling through Instagram or shopping on amazon or just clicking on random apps? I’d like to blame my phone, but it’s not my phone’s fault. It’s a self-control thing.

Romans 7:18 says “For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.”

Gosh, I relate to what Paul says here. But we were not created to hate ourselves for our failures…just to be reminded by them that we are not God, but that we need God.

I’m reading a book called Humble Roots by Hannah Anderson right now. I highly recommend it. She discusses the stealth methods pride uses to hide itself in our lives. I’m slowly recognizing my own daily self-deprecation is a form of pride.

Who am I to think I’m capable of plucking out my own wrongs? Sure, taking notice of our shortcomings is useful to edify ourselves, but dwelling on them and hating ourselves for them is in no way productive or God-honoring. One of my favorite verses is Ephesians 2:10 (emphasis added).

^“For WE are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

We are God’s handiwork…as damaged as we might be or feel. Here’s the ultimate example of me preaching to myself: I started this post bashing my inability to complete my to-do’s and now I’m resolving to forgive myself. But to press on. Because some dates with ourselves are dates with the Divine. Because He’s prepared good works in advanced for us – not to talk about – but to DO.