As our minds are inclined to do, mine began to snowball the small sense of guilt over a missed Bible study into a full fledged blizzard of regret and failure. Why can't I get my toddler to behave during church? I'm not doing enough to grow my business, while other women with 10 kids who own a gym and run worldwide charities seem to grow their businesses by leaps and bounds come hell or high-water. Im not committing enough time to personal growth. I still have a stack of papers to grade. I should be doing more tummy time with the baby! I need to be kinder to my husband. The meals I am cooking are lack-luster and probably not healthy enough, since I used packaged ingredients instead of starting my own farm and growing everything from scratch. I chided myself over and over for not having it all together, for not being more like other women who were more Godly, more outgoing, more successful.
I'm not doing enough. And I'm not doing anything well.
At that moment, the song "Rock of Ages" began to play.
"Not the labor of my hands
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Simply to the cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die."