9:33 a.m.

That’s what time it was as I plopped a load of clean clothes on my bed, unfolded, and declared this day a failure. Beating myself up for leaving the laundry, I moved on to dry my hair before the baby woke up from his nap. After all, I reasoned, if I don’t dry my hair now, it will look funny all day. My dishwasher is half-unloaded for a similar reason—the baby needed to go down for his nap, and I needed to quick grab my shower before he woke up again. It’s all perfectly reasonable, but all of these half-finished tasks scream out at me: Failure! Failure!

So, at 9:33 I admitted defeat. I am a failure. Absolutely hopeless. And the problem extends beyond household chores. I’ve also been an inconsistent parent, telling the noisy boys they could watch just one show and then they needed to turn the TV off, only to give in to their plea of “Please, Mom, just one more?” I’ve been a lousy Christian, thinking terrible thoughts about someone during my morning devotions. (Ironically, while reading the story of the ungrateful servant who had been forgiven a huge debt, only to turn around and have someone arrested for a much smaller, unpaid debt.) I’ve been lazy—just one more cup of coffee and the front page of the newspaper. After all, when’s the last time I allowed myself that luxury? I’ve yelled at my children. (Bopping a balloon around the kitchen while Mom is cooking eggs is generally a bad idea, but not an excuse to lose my temper.)

The list of failures continues. And yet…yet…it’s only 9:33 in the morning. Surely all is not lost. After all, the list of what I have accomplished is also long: devotions, breakfast for the kids and myself, a load of laundry (albeit unfolded), Valentine’s for the noisy boys’ friends ordered, bathroom cleaned, hotel booked for an upcoming Mom’s conference, an email to a discouraged friend, prayers for another friend undergoing surgery today, diapers changed, bottles made, the baby’s down for a nap, and I’m showered and dressed.

Why do I expect perfection from myself? I’ll keep plugging away today, no doubt finishing some tasks and leaving others. I’ll do my best to love my kids and create a safe and happy home for them. I’ll take them to the library and make chili for supper. I’ll cut up apples and pears for snacks, change more diapers, and play a few rounds of Whac-a-Mole. And, no doubt, I’ll make a few more mistakes along the way.

Can I be okay with “good enough” today? Can I accept my own limitations and rely on God for guidance and strength? Can I surrender my goal of “supermom” and exchange it for my true identity: a woman in need of grace?