Unsuccess.

"We want our work to be known and our impact

to be memorialized. And it will be, but by God alone.

No human can give us accolades that will satisfy the 

deepest longings of our hearts. We search vainly from

others for the acclaim that only God can give."

- Sara Hagerty, "Unseen"

I don't know about you, but the older I get the more my life seems to be filled by disappointment after disappointment, one unsuccessful venture after another, failure followed by failure. And up until about 5 years ago I could have listed you a MYRIAD of things that qualified as my biggest fears, I could guarantee you that unsuccess was not one of them. 

But now it is. Top of the list, number one for x weeks in a row. 

Unsuccess.

Under appreciated.

Unseen.

I'm still surprised by this. By the fact that it is. Surprised at how deeply and coldly it runs through me; how it has a hold. 

It's not because I'm a mom (stay-at-home) or because I homeschool (which I L-O-V-E ........ 😣) or because I don't have a career so to speak or even because the hobbies I have and am skilled in have amounted to just about nothing (though, let's be honest, I do really like to think it's because of that most of the time.) It's not because I see other people around me succeeding in things I KNOW I can do. *whispers* and I know I could do better.  

Those things all play a part to be sure. They help prop up the fears and emptiness that already exist and, man, they build a wall. Before I know it I've got freaking Fort Knox happening inside my head and heart and it takes tanks and all sorts of artillery to knock some of it down just so I can get to the real issue. By the way, that little crack I've made in the wall WILL, inevitably, be built back up by some random occurrence and I'll have to start all over again. IF I'm not too frustrated or tired or angry to restart.

And it's this vicious cycle that continues even though I know that those things are not the real issue. They are not the cause. They will not be the cure if fulfilled.

So I have to remember. Every day. Every second sometimes. This void can only be filled by One. By the One who made me. 

The One who sees me.

And when I remember that and accept that and surrender to that, my wall comes crumbling down- not piece by piece with tedious work, but effortlessly. And EVERY TIME I wonder why it takes me so long to do the one thing I know will bring that wall down before it gets built so large, or at all.

It is not a one time thing, to be sure. It's a second by second thing. A keep-your-eye-on-the-prize thing. It takes some training. And some believing. And it's worth it every time. Because instead of feeling like my life is just taking up space in this big wide world, I feel purpose. Not my purpose- but a it-really-matters purpose. And that is not a small thing for one like me.