Thinly Veiled

Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are. ~Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

This journey with my son has been my adversity, uncovering the very depths of who I am. In my past, I prided myself on being a good person and following the rules and doing my best. When the preacher would talk about sins and forgiveness, I had an inflated ego, for I did none of those things needing forgiveness. My prayers were that I would have the strength to survive the difficult circumstances I faced at that time and that I would always commit myself to His will. Never were my prayers about forgiveness. After all, what had I done lately that needed forgiving?
I faced adversity, some of which those around me never knew and likely never will know. Close family and friends know, though. I did not realize at the time that I was committing one sort of sin: pridefulness. I carried pride because I was able to successfully accomplish so much with so little sleep and with much emotional pain. The pride stayed buried, so much that I did not even recognize it as being there.
Today, I know the ugly truth: it has been there all along. Pride has been there; and apparently so have greed, jealousy, and scorn. They have been so buried that I did not even know I was capable of them until I started on this journey. I make an effort to keep them hidden from view, as I am ashamed that they even exist.
How do I see these sins? I continue to have pride, but now it translates into a pride about how good I am at managing things. This pride is not the good sort that you feel when you have a successful child. No, this is the ugly one that causes me to look with scorn at someone who is not managing so well.
The greed and jealousy are twins. I see others who have it better. Better, to me, is in being able to have multiple, healthy children. Better, to me, is being able to afford to raise multiple, healthy children. Better, to me, is a household where the family gets home at a decent time every night and the parents are not sick with exhaustion. I see these people, and I feel jealous pangs of wanting what they have. I see these people, and I feel the greed of wanting more. Then, starts the guilt.
Immediately, I recognize that these feelings need to be kept under control. I feel guilty for having them in the first place, and then I have an internal war with myself about what it means to be human and have these emotions in the first place. Should I push them down? Is that unhealthy? Or am I sinning? Or is this natural and the sin comes if I do not act on them properly? It is horrible and leaves me feeling wrung out.
Then, finally, comes the scorn. I feel scorn and contempt towards God for us being in this situation in the first place. I mean, I am okay with having the burden to care for the child, but why can't God ensure that we can financially take care of it all? Why are we given something without the proper provisions? My God takes care of all my needs? That feels like bull honky. I guess, if you count credit cards with high limits as taking care of our needs, then we are covered.
I feel scorn and contempt towards certain people for not realizing how good they really have it. Their complaints are impossible to stomach, and I immediately do a mental retort of "Well, if you were in my shoes, you wouldn't be complaining about that."
Then, in swings the guilt again. I am not in their shoes, and they may very well have it way worse. We do not know everything going on with every person we encounter, and it is not right to issue judgment.
I know the truth about how I should be, and the guilt comes because the truth shouts in my brain after my knee-jerk emotions. It is a war that stems from my adversity. I am seeing myself as I really am.