The Racer has tripped and faceplanted

Dear God,

Umm, sorry about that cuss word I uttered today. That was quite unbecoming. Especially since I said it in front of What Not To Wear. As You know, my patience is hanging on by a thread. I'm hanging on by a thread.

I'm overwhelmed. I'm undersleeped. Not a good combo. I'm not bringing my burdens to You. I'm not allowing You to hold me close. I'm standing at a distance, with my self pity, and my "I don't understand...why me?" monologue. And I don't understand. I feel like I'll never be good at mothering. I'll never have enough patience. And who suffers...my kids, my husband. How unfair to them.

I feel like my journey as Dirty Job's mother and advocate is taking a very wrong turn. Like a very bad dream. And frankly, I just want to wake up. I want to go back to our life in which taking him off the pacifier was my biggest concern. The life where my dreams for him were never interrupted with words like "autism" or "sensory issues" or the thought that he may never speak. This obviously isn't the path that You have for us. I don't know why, but You do. And apparently I have some trust issues, because it's really hard for me to lay this one down. Above and beyond all that, I'm quite postive that I'm not a very good reflection of you right now. My self absorption dims Your light in my life.

I feel like I ask so much. And yet, Lord, I keep asking. I tiptoe into your presence and beg for you to hold me. Only You can get me through this process. A process that I am so scared will be lifelong. Surely You, O King, can change my circumstances. And if You won't, please change my heart. Let this fire refine me. Keep killing my flesly desires...they are so unbecoming. Help me to recognize all the gifts you have given me. Help me to be balanced with my children. Give me your grace moment by moment...any longer than that and I'm a trainwreck.

Father, carry me through this...my knees are buckling.