Loosely Held Together

I’m astounded whenever I get a comment — which happens more often than you’d think — from someone saying how impressed they are that I’ve got everything so together, or that I’ve got things figured out. I am, frankly, astonished that I ever even manage to give anyone this impression, considering how so much of my blogging and tweeting and Facebooking is just me flailing about and waving my hands, chronicling one failed experiment after another, aiming for goals that I always somehow manage to miss.

I suppose if there is anything to admire, it’s the way I keep going, keep trying, keep making goals, instead of admitting defeat and giving up and going to lie down and/or have a stiff drink. But I’m not sure whether that’s admirable or just the definition of insanity. And the truth is that I don’t know anything. I’m 28 days away from turning 40 and I know NOTHING. I just make it all up as I go, being an adult, being a wife, being a writer, being a freelancer, hell, just BEING and it’s just one long series of throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks, cleaning up the ensuing mess and moving on to the next boiling pot of life spaghetti and wondering if I’ll ever get good at cooking any of this stuff.

It’s really quite exhausting.

And then there are days like today, when the hormones explode and the self-doubt creeps in and the mean voices whisper that it’s no good, that I’ll never amount to anything, never achieve my dreams, and maybe I really should just quit and go lie down and have a nap and a drink and then look for a less complicated way to make a steady living and spend all my free time just watching TV, because hey, I love TV, and that just sounds so much more relaxing, and why am I doing this to myself, exactly?

But I seem to be pathologically incapable of giving up for good. Again, not sure whether that’s admirable or insane. Or just stupid.

And since this is supposed to be my author blog and I write to a secular audience and try to make everyone feel welcome, I try to avoid getting religious or political (as I wish most other writers and entertainers would do, but that’s a topic for another post), it does bear pointing out that the reason I don’t give up, the reason I have the strength to keep going, the only reason I ever manage to give any kind of impression of having it all together, is because of my faith in and my relationship with God, my belief in His promises in scripture and that He is a trustworthy God who keeps His promises. And one of those promises is that I CAN do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength, which I cling to and remind myself of daily, because without that strength I really would be completely useless.

So there you have it. If I’m together, I’m held that way by faith and determination and duct tape and spit. Don’t have any illusions to the contrary.

This disemboguing of forthrightness and brutal honesty is brought to you today by the letters P, M and S.