"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I silently question as my parents encourage me to work harder in school and on the soccer field.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I mumble under my breath as my teacher hands me a "challenge worksheet" for some extra take-home practice.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I say with my eyes, as I stare down my opponent on the high school soccer field.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I wonder when the SAT volunteer hands me my pencil and test instruct me to "stay calm" and reminds me that I've "got this."

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I ponder as I am offered my first job out of college for which I feel quite a bit underqualified.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I whisper in my husband's ear on our wedding day, fully aware that I'll need to strive for self-improvement from this day forward.

"Who do you think you are, challenging me to do better?" I ask as I look down at my growing belly feeling the not-so-gentle kicks of my unborn daughter.

"Who do you think you are, challenging me to do better?" I bark at the nurse who told me to "keep pushing and breathing" during the 22-hour labor with my first child.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I question my man when he reminds me that I am more than capable of birthing a baby (and that I have no choice).

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I ask of my newborn daughter as she stares into my soul while depleting my breast of all its nutritional content.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I plead to our society who expects me to go back to work only three months after her birth.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I think but never dare ask my boss, who clearly sees me struggling to balance work and my home life, but continues to assign me more tasks.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I ask of God when takes away my loved one and leaves me here to get by without them.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I question myself as I look in the mirror affirming my worth and confidently recognizing my purpose on this Earth.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I think as I look at my second child who decided to grace his father and me with his presence five weeks before his due date.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I scream at my love nuggets in a fit of frustration, as I struggle to breastfeed a colicky infant and calm a tantrumming toddler.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I ask of myself every morning when I add yet another "to-do" to my evergrowing list of uncompleted duties.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I silently murmur to myself as I count and track my calories and steps in an attempt to stay healthy and fit(ish).

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I ponder when my momma heart begins to ache for yet another baby who will surely complete the trio but also deplete me of whatever I have left.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I internally question my children when they test my patience each day.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I think when I'm around my impressive mom friends who motivate and inspire me with their successful positive parenting techniques.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I wonder when my husband still finds ways, with his minimal time, to be present for his children and me, making it evident that I am capable of the same.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better?" I question myself each morning when I rise with the unrelenting intention to be an improved woman, daughter, sister, mom, wife and general public member than I was the day before.

"Who do you think you are challenging me to do better, and why have you been on my case for so long?" I ask of God.

To which he responds:

"Because I see who you want to be.

Because I see who you can be.

Because I see who you will be.

And --

Because I know who you already are."

And, because He knows, well, now I know.

And, with the knowledge that every person and situation that challenges me is meant for me, I trustfully raise my children to believe the same and think you should, too.