“All things are possible…”
But not all things are probable.
And I’m stuck in this devolution of desire for something that just doesn’t seem in the cards.
I’ve blamed You; and I’ve blamed me; and I’ve blamed the situation.
But blaming doesn’t bring me through the situation.
I’m in a whirlpool of revisiting all the worst parts of me, all the ways I’ve failed the last almost 3 years.
Make peace with the present…
…but, I don’t know how to make peace with this.
Or, at least, I don’t know how to make lasting peace with this.
I have minutes; I have moments.
But then the current swoops me back in, and I’m lost in feeling…
Well, feeling all the feelings.
And I’m derailed; distracted; damaged.
—
Consider it joy…
The testing of your faith produces patience…*
I am weak; I’m human; I’m struggling to get through this test.
What if there’s nothing for me to do – and the “making peace” in this fase means only that I should look to You at each moment of weakness and ask for wisdom, discernment and courage to act in each instance.
That’s a short leash.
Shorter than I’m accustomed to…
Can I say that I don’t like it?
Can you still love me if I tell You I’m struggling hard against the discomfort of this fase. I’m uncomfortable in my skin; uncomfortable with questioning (almost) every step; uncomfortable with how I’m being read by others.
I am supposed to be wholehearted, all-in – with trust and gladness – taking each step with positive anticipation.
I’m not there.
Nowhere near.
But, even still, I trust that You know what’s ahead. I trust that there’s a maturity, a completeness, on the other side of this that will set me on firm ground in a way that nothing in my past has done. I trust that there is purpose to this…
And I trust that if I ask for wisdom and discernment, for courage, for grace to gill in the gaps, that it will be available for me to hold onto though this tumult of feelings and the process of learning.
*James 1: 2-6
But not all things are probable.
And I’m stuck in this devolution of desire for something that just doesn’t seem in the cards.
I’ve blamed You; and I’ve blamed me; and I’ve blamed the situation.
But blaming doesn’t bring me through the situation.
I’m in a whirlpool of revisiting all the worst parts of me, all the ways I’ve failed the last almost 3 years.
Make peace with the present…
…but, I don’t know how to make peace with this.
Or, at least, I don’t know how to make lasting peace with this.
I have minutes; I have moments.
But then the current swoops me back in, and I’m lost in feeling…
Well, feeling all the feelings.
And I’m derailed; distracted; damaged.
—
Consider it joy…
The testing of your faith produces patience…*
I am weak; I’m human; I’m struggling to get through this test.
What if there’s nothing for me to do – and the “making peace” in this fase means only that I should look to You at each moment of weakness and ask for wisdom, discernment and courage to act in each instance.
That’s a short leash.
Shorter than I’m accustomed to…
Can I say that I don’t like it?
Can you still love me if I tell You I’m struggling hard against the discomfort of this fase. I’m uncomfortable in my skin; uncomfortable with questioning (almost) every step; uncomfortable with how I’m being read by others.
I am supposed to be wholehearted, all-in – with trust and gladness – taking each step with positive anticipation.
I’m not there.
Nowhere near.
But, even still, I trust that You know what’s ahead. I trust that there’s a maturity, a completeness, on the other side of this that will set me on firm ground in a way that nothing in my past has done. I trust that there is purpose to this…
And I trust that if I ask for wisdom and discernment, for courage, for grace to gill in the gaps, that it will be available for me to hold onto though this tumult of feelings and the process of learning.
*James 1: 2-6
