I apologize for the gap between posts lately. I was recently added to the Resource Writing team for Top Christian Books (.online) and that has been funneling my energy in new, exciting directions.
But, hello! You are here. Welcome back and Happy Tuesday to you, my friend. It’s starting to thunder with a chance of lightening here in the mountains. As we put the bikes away and headed into the house, I was again reminded how incredibly powerful and mighty are the hands of our King.
Have you ever had days or weeks or just the slightest moments of lull? Man alive. I’m in the desert of lull. For the last two weeks I have sat my butt in coffee shops, in my bed, on both our couches, at each of the six dining table stools. I’ve slouched my legs at the corner desk, have grinned and glared at the screen. I’d look around for inspiration. Nothing. I’d take a walk, make a phone call, connect on social media sites. Nada. Words and thoughts and processes and life fell flat. Every irrational part of myself began hating everything. My closet was claustrophobic. My newly darkened hair was too goth-like. My nails were uneven and too frail. Every wall needed paint touch-ups. Why did I choose these colors anyway? The kid’s bathroom sink. The dead plants outside. The cold. The heat. TV show hosts. Do not come near me, I am judgy and unfiltered and cannot possibly be pleased.
I was in the middle of this lull, sitting at a round table along the left side of an over-sized, 30-year old metal barn. A good friend of ours, who also wrote one of the I’ll Go First articles, had coordinated a dinner fundraiser for the non-profit she works with, Foothill Pregnancy Center. This organization is dear to our hearts. When Eric and I first learned we were pregnant with Izzy, I went to FPC to verify. That’s where we had the initial ultrasound and immediately fell to pieces over her tiny, beating heart.
As 8 of us friends sat together at the round table, I kept feeling a familiar angst in my soul. The same, irrational fury. The irritating stirring and wrestling of emotions and pride and judgement. These uninvited guests were sharing my seat and I was uncomfortable. About half way through the evening, I sipped my cup of after dinner coffee, breathing in the keynote’s words as he preached the value of life and the fight against political ignorance and abortion, and could feel my lungs nearly collapse as they sank, deflated. Are you done yet?
It was in this moment, with my black coffee, when God reminded me to revisit forgiveness. Almost instantly my black, metal chair only held myself. The pride that had coddled my angst walked out the back double doors. Are you done yet? Are you done with your “I’ve got this” attitude? Are you done thinking life now needs to look perfect? Are you done thinking you’ll never feel this again?
Friends, that was almost 10 years ago but almost daily I need to remind myself of the powerful forgiveness from Jesus that covers me. But it’s easy to give into the lies that I need to make it right somehow. That I need to apologize one more time. That I need to sacrifice a lamb and fast from caffeine for the next three years.
The truth is, according to Jesus, my sins are gone. The truth is, being forgiven is humbling and hard for my humanness. Forgiveness needs to be revisited sometimes. Sometimes I forget the truth of His glory and I take residence in the desert. Sometimes I forget that my slate is clean. Sometimes I forget that, in the mess of all this life can be, He is near to me always and that’s pretty great.