In December, I had my eyes tested. For the longest time, I’d had headaches, and a near permanent groove between my brows, from screwing up my face, as if that could enlarge fonts. As it turned out, I needed glasses.
I sat in the car, taking them off, putting them on. Amazed by how clear and defined the trees were. All this time, I’d thought I’d been seeing things how they really were. How long had my view been slightly out of focus?
It’s amazing how new perspective can open your eyes.
I’d been feeling like a failure. Tired from work, struggling to find my feet in a new role; no patience with my children and husband, inadequate in all areas. And I fell into the comparison trap. The friends with nicer homes, with seemingly mess-free lives.
And all I could see was my mistakes.
Teen pregnancy, debt, endless failing. This rental house with its worn out floors.
I went for a blood test and got talking to the nurse. She said I looked too young to have children, I told her I am. When she found out I’m a nurse too, that I’d trained hard when I was a young, single mum, she seemed genuinely impressed.
When we’re so focused on where others are, we lose focus of how far we’ve come.
We define ourselves by failure, scrawling our narrative, marked by mistakes.
We lose sight of the story being written, forget that it’s still unravelling. We’re works in progress, ever being made new and Grace means we’re not defined by where we began.
Linking up for Five Minute Friday.