I wrestle.

Do you ever get a thing in your head? And you can’t stop thinking about it, reaching for it, begging God to make it happen? It even feels like it is the thing that WILL happen, but you don’t know when? And you have learned not to really trust your feelings anyway because they are wrong a lot.

I waffle back and forth between all in the moment and what the future may hold. There are aches and pains and things that I believe in my heart and know in my head are all wrong. I wrestle.

Things like God is so hard on me and If you want it to happen, assume it will not and Don’t count on it. I know in my head that these are not true, and there are days when that trickles down to my heart – but there are days when my heart puts up quite a fight against Truth.

I also remember that sometimes it’s both – longing and contentment – ache and joy. I try to get comfortable with the awkwardness of that.

I weep when my four year old wakes up crying because she misses her Nana – and there’s nothing I can do to ease her ache. And I rejoice because my children know what it is to let people who don’t share our blood and our history right into the thick of our lives. I rejoice because she sings with glee when she sees Michal Lynn and because God gave us a person like Michal Lynn who loves us all – no holds bar.

My heart stings a bit when I watch my Daddy guide my girls in a way I never would have thought to – in a gentler, wiser, more seasoned way – because I know that they only get that sort of relief from the relentless mommy-rulings a few times a year. And I grateful because I have learned to lean on Jesus in a way that is almost second nature because I am daily stripped of any goodness I had in me – and He is our only relief.


There is a weight upon me as I look into the eyes of a friend who has had a year that no one should ever have to have – and I know that all I can offer her is a few hours while she is in town and my prayers. She’s not asking me for anything, but I feel compelled to do SOMEthing. And I am struck teary eyed when the generosity of new friends makes a way for me to side step entirely alone and fly straight into the arms of comfort.

I am weary of weeping, and stinging, and walking beneath the weight, but I am grateful for the way that it all has changed – is changing – my heart. Grateful for better seeing eyes and a deeper feeling heart. Grateful to know what it is to come to the end of myself. Beyond the way this all affects me…I don’t know how God is using it to mold my children. I can’t really say that I like it, but I do like Him – and I trust Him.

And so I wrestle – I beg and I rest and I hurt and I rejoice…and I choose to believe that He is kind.

No clever conclusion – just a little something to let you know that everyone is dealing with a thing. You are not alone.

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