Some days later, I sat in the balmy air of another Florida morning – on the back porch that is another of my sacred places – and I wondered:
Why does stillness feel like failing to me?
Can pressing on look more like waiting in the stillness and just breathing?
Does my value come from what I do?
Do I really know who I am in Christ?
Coffee in hand, I let those questions soak in and percolate for a bit. In the still and quiet, I tried to make room for that which hides beneath the surface to make its way into some open space. This is what wound up on the pages of my journal:
Often it may look as though I am pushing forward, rocking it out as a Christian wife, mama, and leader – maybe to others, maybe even to myself sometimes, but I’m afraid that I’ve left no room for the gentle, quiet voice of the Spirit to instill in me humility, self-control, gentleness, and faithfulness.
I have been striving so hard to get the house ready, to prepare for Jude, to make life more fun for the girls, to get to Arvada, to be a part of Storyline. So hard, when what I should be doing is covering it all in quiet prayer – prayer for the house to sell, prayer for a new home, prayer for a safe delivery and a smooth transition, prayer for my girls and my parenting, prayer for Arvada and for the details of our trainsition, prayer for Ben & Lynley and our whole team. I have failed to lay a foundation or stick to the blueprints of what I know works. Instead, in this time of transition and change, I have been desperately trying to work my way out of fear.
And there it was: the revelation of truth in my try hard heart.
I am afraid of so much right now. The feeling small and the fear and the failure in stillness – it’s all connected. It seems that the best, maybe the only, way to continue to dig around this issue is to jump right into that which I am avoiding – the stillness. And God, in His sweet timing, has provided me with a newborn to help me do it. There is a cocooning that happens in the first several months of a new baby’s life…it can feel like loneliness but it can also be a beautiful gift.
Is there something God is calling you to make space for dealing with? Could we have eyes that see better if we made room for the soft-edged, sometimes barely visible Holy Spirit to do his work? Can we learn to feel less small by embracing more still?
I don’t know. I’m still working through it all, but I do know my Jesus. I know that He always gets us where we need to be. We must only keep pressing harder into Him.