I'm driving down the road to see a friend. I love her, her parents and her relationship with her twin brothers. I'm even willing to love her dog, even though I'm allergic, because I just want what she has. I actually just want to have her life instead of mine...or maybe mine with a few adjustments. I love everything about my family, my mom, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and all of my many cousins. But, if I'm to be honest, I feel disappointed in the dad area.

I am a terrible test-taker. When I was in high school the SAT experts trained me to, "Go with your gut. Stick with your first answer because it's usually right." 

But, it never looked right. It never felt right. 

Finishing, I took their last piece of advice to heart, "When you're finished, go back and review your test before you turn it in." If they hadn't said this, I might have been able to resist changing my first answers, but because "they" said to review, I did. 

"It's getting harder and harder for me to give," I confessed to myself. Clayton and I sat across the table from a couple who needed a listening ear. We listened while they talked. We comforted them through their struggles and tears. I was obeying my calling to ministry, but my inner soul wished I could be the one talking and crying.

It was in this moment I realized how dry and empty my own soul felt. I'd just become a mother, and it was proving harder than I thought. Because I didn't love my new calling, I was carrying far too much shame and guilt. I was desperate for help myself. Still, I sat listening and praying to the only One who could help these people because I felt completely incapable.