My husband recently told me that one of my common phrases is, "I feel bad that..." I never noticed how bad I felt for everything...for so many things I didn't need to feel bad for...until he made me aware. I felt bad when my kids got in trouble, got their feelings hurt, weren't having enough fun, or when I felt like a "bad mom." At first I tried to justify my guilty feelings by telling myself that Clayton was an insensitive guy. But, after years of trying to explain to him why I felt guilty (and why he should too), I understood that I was worrying about things that weren't my responsibility. I was carrying other people's burdens in the name of compassion and love, but was actually motivated by guilt.

Parenting. The word itself carries so many emotions: joy, fear, hope, doubt and pride. When my first son was born I was honored and terrified at the same time. How could God trust me to keep this child alive, much less guide him spiritually? What if I don't have what it takes to be the parent he needs? What if I give him the wrong advice or steer him in the wrong direction? What if I'm not loving, wise, caring, strict or compassionate enough? What if I'm not up for the calling?

Realistically, though, there was no going back. I had to move forward. So I did.