#fail (Bible in 90 Days)

I hardly know where to begin. This post is a bit long, and it wasn't easy to write, so maybe it won't be easy to read. But it is (eventually) about the Bible in 90 Days, and I feel compelled for some mysterious reason to be completely honest, raw and open about this. So here goes...

I have pondered whether to write this post or not... and ultimately decided that I promised myself (and you) that in this place I would share my journey.

The good parts and the bad parts.
The highs and the lows.
The challenges and the triumphs.
(Does anyone else think this is starting to sound like marriage vows?)
The successes and the failures.

Of course, that's easy to say when you've just begun a new journey. If you'll remember, Dorothy began her journey on the yellow brick road with a catchy phrase, a song and a dance.

That's the easy part of the journey to admit to and to share with others. But we all know that even for Dorothy, the wheels came off the wagon a few miles down the road.

Well, folks, the wheels have come off my wagon. I am surrounded by my own failures, and I have been left bewildered, wondering... Is it possible to fail at everything? All at the same time?

"It can't be that bad," you're probably thinking. "Get over your pity party, pull yourself up," you're probably saying. I can hear you. It's okay.

This is not a pity party. Well, not the "all the bad stuff just happens to me" kind, anyway. This is more of the "I really and truly and completely suck. I have let people down, I have let myself down, I have failed at so much. I have been lazy and undisciplined and I have made poor choices, and I have made myself into a huge failure," kind of pity party.

What are the current failures, you ask? Here are some of the highlights (though this list is not at all exhaustive):

Bible in 90 Days = #faithfail
Stl Slimdown = #healthfail
Wife/Mom = #homemakerfail
My job = #musictherapyfail
Tyson's Sensory Issues = #momfail

Since today is Monday (and is therefore #B90Days Check-in Day), I'm going to focus on my complete & utter failure to read the Bible in 90 Days. This is of particular importance to me, given the spiritual impact it will should have had.

Read the Bible for about an hour each day - 12 pages a day. It sounded so easy. I read & knit for about an hour a day, so if I just cut back on that it should be smooth sailing. I started out so hopeful, so optimistic. I tore through the first week, when I was still on Christmas break from work.

Then school started again, and one of the wheels on my wagon started to wobble a bit. There were days when the hours just seemed to slip through my fingers. I got about 2 days behind. Then I caught up. Then I got four days behind and I briefly considered throwing in the towel. While considering this, I fell behind about 3 more days. Then I caught up by 2 days...

You get the picture.

By the time spring break arrived last week, I was nearly 14 days behind. No worries, I thought. I've got no work for a whole week.

But I promised Tyson I would paint his room. That took about 2.5 days. And I had to reorganize my household notebook, which took a lot of time. And, well... I didn't make good choices concerning my time and my Bible and I think I may have actually fallen even farther behind. (I've lost count given up counting. It's like rubbing salt in a self-inflicted wound.)

"Pray." People told me to pray. God would help me through this. I considered it.

But let me ask you this:

Aren't there things, no.

Shouldn't there be things that we do on our own?


I mean, I expect my seven year old to do things that I know he is capable of doing, without help from me. He can make sandwiches, and get his own drinks, and get himself ready for school... and he can do them without my help (most days). Therefore, I expect him to do these things all by himself.

I am capable of managing my time. I am capable of making responsible choices. I am capable of reading, for crying out loud!

Shouldn't I be expected to read for one stinking hour a day without Divine Intervention? Doesn't God expect me to do for myself things we both know I am capable of doing? I mean, I don't pray for God's intercession when it comes to brushing my teeth or reading the latest Stephanie Plum novel. Why should I request help with reading the most important book I will ever read?

So, I didn't pray. I didn't ask for help. Because if I can't do this one small thing, then what good am I?

And I failed. I am so far behind that I could only finish on time if I quit my job, send my boys to my grandmother's house, and give up small luxuries like showering and sleeping.

I should be clear: I am still reading. But it is not called the "Bible in 137.5 Days." So I failed.

I won't be done by Easter.
I won't be done with everyone else.
I won't feel like celebrating when I finally finish.

Because, really, what's to celebrate finishing a race when the race officials have already taken down the finish line because all the good people are already done?

I failed. I hate myself for it. I have failed at so much lately. And I hate myself for all of that too.

I don't know where to go from here. I don't know how to climb out of this pit I'm in. (Ever seen The Princess Bride? Remember the "Pit of Despair?" Or the "Bog of Eternal Stench" from The Labyrinth?)

I don't think I even feel like I deserve to climb out of it. 

So, there it is. Me, in the raw. I promised the good, the bad & the very, very ugly.

I think I've delivered on those last two, so at least I haven't failed in that.