Shallow-Truster

If I'm being totally honest, I have to admit I'm a shallow-truster.  I wish I could trust with abandon.  But I'm more like the boy's father in Mark 9, "I believe; help my unbelief!"  I can trust in little things, but still tend to freak out over big things.  I hate this about myself, but I'm asking God to help me with it.

(which means He brings me multiple opportunities to 'practice' trust :/)

Last night was a rough one.  My husband was part of an incredibly painful, difficult conversation, and after he came home and 'debriefed' with me (which included rehashing the conversation - complete with varying levels of emotions, answering my million questions and finally praying together so we wouldn't let anger/discouragement take hold), we both had less than restful sleep.  So as I'm flipping through my journal (because that's what I do when I'm procrastinating instead of actually making a new entry), I found the page where I had written down the Prayer of St Teresa:

"Let nothing disturb you. Let nothing frighten you. All things pass away:  God never changes." And I felt God saying, "I won't ever leave.  I know your world has been turned upside down.  But I am unchanging.  I'm still in control. And I won't let you go. Don't be upset. Don't be afraid. You can trust me."

I trust you God.  Help me trust you...

x

Comma Living

Until a few months ago, I lived a very "run-on-sentence" life.  In my mind, there was too much to be done to come to a complete stop.  I should always be doing something - to show God how thankful I am; that He can use me.  That's what good Christians do, right?  They sacrifice.  Work tirelessly.  Selflessly.  And let's face it: people like it when you're available 24/7. No one else is going to set boundaries for you.  As Emily Freeman says, "Life doesn't have corners - we create our own stops, our own spaces".

The thing is, the run-on life soon ran out.  There was no life.  It was just words.  Endless, streaming, novels full of passion and ideas and impression management and worries and wondering and nonsense. Some of it was beautiful.  But a lot of it was noise.  

And then the words ran out.  I had nothing more to give.  Didn't want to even if I had.  I was dry and brittle and resentful.  But I was too afraid to let other people know that.  So I hid.  I made up words, or repeated old phrases that sounded good.  My relationships were reduced to 'sound bites'.

But then, God gave me a priceless gift:  time.  He orchestrated a sabbatical for my husband and me.  6 weeks with no commitments, no have-to's or should's; no deadlines or to do lists (not even phones!!)  I can't explain how humbling it is to be allowed to hit "pause" on your life. All I know is, I'll thank Him every single day by living differently because of what I learned during the pause.

From now on I want to pursue "comma living".  Where the words of my life are refreshing, sometimes beautiful, sometimes challenging, sometimes just funny.  But in the midst of the pages and paragraphs - I want to pause.  You know: like a comma.  It's not a full stop - the story keeps going.  But there's a beautiful comma that gives the reader a chance to pause and reflect, or wonder or just catch your breath.  Without the commas, the story can't take shape.  It gets confusing.  Or worse, misunderstood. Commas are like the margins on the page: they don't change what's being said, they just give it structure so it can be correctly understood and appreciated.

So I'm done with 'run-on' living.  I want to embrace 'comma living'.  Paying attention to the meter of the story of my life, and pausing at times to reflect, remember or rest. 

Seasonal Disorder?

Spring.  It's April 23rd and my calendar says we are officially a month into Spring. (Not that my town got the memo, as it snowed yesterday.)  But it is, in fact, spring again. And more importantly (at least to me) it's spring again in my life.
It was about a year ago that I was sitting with 5 incredible women who met regularly for the express purpose of helping each other pay attention to what God is saying to us. We were talking about the 'seasons' of our lives and how God moves us through those different seasons expertly, even though we would prefer perpetual spring.  You know, that time in life when things feel fresh and clean again? When there is renewed energy and new, beautiful things popping up all over? That Spring.  I want to live in that Spring year-round. But as we talked that day, I was struck by the fact that God didn't design nature to work that way. So why would I expect the seasons of my life to work that way?  

You can't experience spring without first living through the winter. There has to be that time to rest and regroup.  Be still.  Soak in.  Be held.  And then as spring is coming, there's the raking away of all that's dead.  There's painful (sometimes drastic) pruning.  And then more care: a little feeding, lots of water, some storms.  And small beginnings.  That's where I am. 

It's been a loooong season of winter for me.  A kind of slow dying - that actually started so slowly, I didn't even realize it was happening.  By the time I figured it out, the damage was done.  I was well and truly fried. Done. Finished.  The 'let-me-run-away-and-never-come-back' kind of done.  That's a scary place to be.  And not knowing how I got there, I didn't know how to find my way back. But then, just like a child who got lost in the store, my Father came and found me.  

I can see now that He was there long before I recognized Him.  I was too busy crying and (honestly) throwing a tantrum, to see Him standing by patiently, lovingly, hand outstretched.   And when I finally quieted enough to hear His voice reassuring me, I was able to just rest in His arms.  

So when I look at the trees budding and the flowers blooming, I'm reminded that my Dad is faithful. Spring will always come after Winter.  And this year, when Spring turns to Summer, I'll swim and dance and sing and play.  And when that Summer turns to Autumn, I'll laugh and gather and be thankful.  And when the next Winter comes in my life, I want to embrace it as the much-needed rest that my all-knowing, Creator-God designed for me.  And I'll snuggle in, quiet myself and be at peace.