Good grief


“God allows us to feel the frailty of human love so that we’ll appreciate the strength of His.” – CS Lewis

A year ago, I made this blog as a New Year’s resolution thinking I had it all figured out. I saw Christianity as a one way highway to the good life – and I seemed to balance life in both hands while walking across the tightrope pretty dang well. I thought inspiring people was about having a sturdy trust and a polished faith because I was lucky enough to love everything about the life God gave me, and I thought that was pretty well the point.

Time and time again I have been proven wrong. Humbled by my need and shaken in more ways than one, I’ve learned that faith is a lot more complicated than I thought. It’s crazy to think about the mountains and valleys my faith has climbed through in the last year.

This year’s valleys have been quite the hike. I’m learning God has streams that flow in them nonetheless.

I must say this valley seems to be the first beast of it’s kind. I suppose 2018’s climb starts off with some switchbacks. Wicked.

With each challenge God handed me, I spent 2017 anxiously seeking where to run next. He always seemed to provide a getaway car. Whether I’d find His comfort in a friend, home, folding laundry in the middle of the desert (lol)… if I looked for it, His strength always seemed accessible. I felt gently guided through some of the weather – other storms it seemed if I just blindly trekking up – I’d find Him somewhere at the top. In hindsight, it’s so much easier to look down on my path and see the turns He thoughtfully placed along the way.

Maybe I’m blowing things way out of proportion, (this is quite likely,) but this time is different. I’ve never felt quite so stuck. Usually God’s challenge seems to be a million choices, but not none. I have never quite felt like I had no where to turn. No where to run, release, distract myself, rest, whatever. I see about ten different paths to take and about a million reasons why each one has a big fat “not quite” sign on it.

After going for the usual first response “cope with my feelings” long run today – I stood dripping sweat  in the doorway, a lump fighting its way to stay hidden in my throat -trying to think of where possibly I would go next. What my next move could be. But after blankly staring at the street in dripping sweat or too long, I closed the door with a guilty laugh, realizing I had exhausted my resources.

I guess I expect more out of myself. I would expect a woman who claims to have a hope in her creator be able to lean on Him when the going gets rough. I don’t really know how else to say it, but quite frankly it’s real freakin’ hard to turn to God when it seems like He’s the one orchestrating a storm.

Maybe this is where God says stop. Stop trying to fix things on your own strength. No matter who you are, you are human, and you will break on your own. Maybe this is where God shows me it’s time to give some attention to the heart. Stop running – stop searching for another earthly way to cope with the billion things beyond your control. Perhaps there is no where to turn but up. I don’t really know how much comfort I find in that right now.

God gives us great tasks with the knowledge that we will mess them up. He allows us to walk freely in our humanness and experience His joy but created us fragile enough to need Him to find it.

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