I wish I could say that the truth behind this title is that I have faith like lightning – strong, bright, powerful – but unfortunately I’m referring to the speed of lightning which is the best description for how quickly I lose (or abandon) my faith when times get tough, even just a little bit. It’s gone in a flash. Quick like lightning.

Case in point: Elly was up at 4:30am this morning, pretty much for good since she didn’t really go back to sleep until I got up at 5:30 and rocked her for a good hour and she may have dozed on and off for another 30-45 minutes or so until Michael was up getting ready for work and Dozer found something he absolutely had to howl about. Within that time, my mind went from being worried and lovingly concerned about whatever was plaguing Elly preventing her from sleeping to frustration and fear of what the day would be like after such a start to the morning. I was in a full blown meltdown by the time I took her downstairs for breakfast, vowing how much I hate Saturdays and how this one would be just as awful as many others.

Michael works Saturdays. EVERY Saturday. And a regular 5-day work week. So by the time Saturday rolls around, I’m pretty spent and would much rather be able to spend it with my family, like normal people, not having to treat it like another Monday or Wednesday. It just sucks and I hope that changes soon. And this week, because Memorial Day weekend is a huge weekend in the car business, he will be working Sunday too. Lovely, right? With my regular angst for Saturdays already in full swing, plus the way this day had started, I felt entitled to a meltdown, claiming that things must have just been going too well for my “normal” week to continue. I was mad. Mad at the circumstances, mad at myself for allowing my thoughts to control me, mad that yet again, I ultimately flung my faith out the window at the slightest bit of difficulty.

SO. WEAK.

For justification’s sake, I would like to think that this morning’s meltdown was a result of several troubling events/issues this week that I just ‘pushed through’ and that this morning was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. And while I’m sure that’s partially true, to me, it’s a rather puny excuse for immediately jumping to the worst possible scenario – that today was just following suit as a horrible Saturday where Michael wouldn’t get home until after 10pm, that Elly wouldn’t nap AT ALL, that I wouldn’t be able to get anything done, and that the world might in fact end as a result of all these things and I just couldn’t handle it. Defeated before I even give anything a chance. Shameful.

I’m constantly wrestling with this internal back-and-forth, willing myself to allow God to strengthen me, even in the small things, but I still fail too often. I’m hoping all these failures will eventually teach me something or grow me in some way and that the time lapse for me to stay calm will somehow lengthen.

My college roommate sent this to me a couple of weeks ago, and it’s all too appropriate for us, and I’m sure if I were ever a superhero, this would be my identity:

Except my costume would have a giant lightning bolt on the front. More appropriate.