Nine minutes till the Bachelor. Not even, just the really unnecessary Women Tell All part of the show that my sweet man would tell me to turn off before I turn it on. Can I tell you something really annoying about me? I always, always look up all the spoilers for The Bachelor–like one split second before it airs. I know, I’m that person. And all my die hard fan-friend girls roll their eyes… so does Jeff.
Anyways, now seven minutes that I’m going to use to spill on you before I cozy up with my bread bowl and Colton. Douse you in a little of my real life reality over here.
I’m so stinkin’ tired.
Today I spent the morning puking and on the toilet, swallowing a bunch of ease, eating oranges like it was my day job and curling up on the couch in a fetal position.
Whether it was a bug or just a really, horrible and weird period…or both…whatever. It was a day that felt like a century, on top of a life that feels really squeezed right now…and it felt like a really bad God-joke after telling the world that it’s been my healthiest season (which truth–it has!)
I was on the phone with a good friend yesterday, unloading all of my junk.
All the whispers and pat pats of
you’re doing such a great job in all of this.
I’m just so amazed you’re still standing…
you’re carrying so much and doing it so well.
wow what a long year you’ve had.
you’ve got this mama, and God’s got you!
To all of it, I’m thankful.
But also to all of it, I kind of just want to rip my hair out.
Yes, yes — God’s got it and I know it and it’s my literal security blanket in all of this…because let me tell you, I would not be doing any of this with any sense of okayness without Him.
But can I just dip your toes into my real life heart for a second?
I’m also angry
And a little bitter
And frustrated as hell
And wrestling a lot of feelings of unseen & invisible
And pretty pits-lonely and disappointed in this
Which is hilarious, right? Because I talk about seasons all of the time. And in everything there is a season. Comfort? Yes. Am I still all of those things I just wrote down? Yes.
And underneath it all…or over top of it all…I have been feeling guilty and ashamed for those things. We all do. We jump to comparison of who has it harder. Of whose held it longer. Of how well we are holding it together. We jump to — but oh! with a little faith–
And there I’ll stop and say,
but oh! With a lot of faith… I’m moving through this hell-hole and daily reminder that this is not my home. This is not my children’s home. This is not the home for my pain and my exhaustion… for my defeat and my isolation…for my disruptions and disappointments… and for all the threads that keep coming undone.
There is a home waiting for us. There is someone who already came for us, who even in the clouds upon clouds upon clouds, wrapped us up and bathed us in light! There is a kind, kind Father who is weeping with me. With you. He’s going to scoop us up one day, with all of our undone threads, and give us a new, whole life in a whole lot of sunshine.
Clothed in righteousness.
But in the meantime I’ve had to nestle down in this…
He sees me. He holds me. He can hold all of my junky feelings too.
And, my favorite part, He will use my faith through the fire, just as much as my faith in the calm. And He gives me joy that sustains through every moment of the aching still. Did you know they can coexist? Oh sweet friends, they can. Which is why you see my joy, and also my mess.
Job 29: 1-20
“Oh, that I were as in the months of old,
as in the days when God watched over me,
when his lamp shone upon my head,
and by his light I walked through darkness,
as I was in my prime,
when the friendship of God was upon my tent,
when the Almighty was yet with me,
when my children were all around me,
when my steps were washed with butter,
and the rock poured out for me streams of oil!
When I went out to the gate of the city,
when I prepared my seat in the square,
the young men saw me and withdrew,
and the aged rose and stood;
the princes refrained from talking
and laid their hand on their mouth;
the voice of the nobles was hushed,
and their tongue stuck to the roof of their mouth.
When the ear heard, it called me blessed,
and when the eye saw, it approved,
because I delivered the poor who cried for help,
and the fatherless who had none to help him.
The blessing of him who was about to perish came upon me,
and I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy.
I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;
my justice was like a robe and a turban.
I was eyes to the blind
and feet to the lame.
I was a father to the needy,
and I searched out the cause of him whom I did not know.
I broke the fangs of the unrighteous
and made him drop his prey from his teeth.
Then I thought, ‘I shall die in my nest,
and I shall multiply my days as the sand,
my roots spread out to the waters,
with the dew all night on my branches,
my glory fresh with me,
and my bow ever new in my hand.’