It’s been quiet here lately. I’ve felt stuck, creativity a distant memory. Life has happened; some days coming at me at 100 mph, and other days, still as a hot summer’s afternoon. Days spent sitting on the front porch, walking in the park, taking the time to be mindful. Trying to notice the God-moments in the ordinary. It’s been good to disconnect a little, taking a step back to simply observe. One thing that hasn’t changed is that life goes on, with all of the beautiful and terrible things. This post is from several years ago, but I think that even as I need to be reminded time and again that I am not alone, someone else may need it also.
Maybe that person is you…
There have been moments filled not with joy and hope, but with hurt and despair. Those not filled with peace and love, but with bitterness and loneliness. I know for some of you, that’s where you find yourselves as you read this. You are simply going through the motions because that’s what friends and family expect. You don’t want, nor do you have the energy to let anyone know just how empty you feel. And that’s okay. It’s okay to feel all the things. It’s okay to simply lean into the moment.
I want to let you in on a little secret. The pressure is off. I know exactly how you feel…
I know what it’s like to be mistreated by the church. Stripped of a position simply for being a woman. To be lied to by the very ministers you worked so closely with, and who you trusted.
I know the heartbreak of never seeing the faces of children that were long waited for. Never counting tiny fingers and toes. Never taking in the scent of my newborn’s breath on my cheek.
I know what it’s like to be made to feel less than because I’ve had to rely on government assistance in order to put food on our table.
I know what it’s like to get an early morning phone call from a hospital chaplain, “your son is here, he’s been in an accident.” And then to spend the rest of the day with emergency room physicians as they talk about chest tubes and open heart surgery.
I know what it’s like to be paralyzed by fear awaiting MRI results, and subsequently, pathology reports for my daughter.
I know what it’s like to be afraid and confused because I’ve screwed up and hurt people I’ve cared about. Left standing hopeless and alone in the shattered pieces of what God intended.
I know what it’s like to live with fractured relationships. Knowing that distance is the best option, yet longing for restoration.
I know the devastation of betrayal. When the person you trusted with your heart, the one you vowed to love before God, has chosen someone else. When the feel of someone else’s skin under their fingertips is what they long for.
I also know that there is always hope…
When we feel abandoned and forsaken. Hopeless and alone. When we are drowning in the ocean of tears we have cried and the hurt threatens to swallow us up. When we feel like we just can’t take another breath…God with us.
And that hope came in our weakness to experience everything as we would. To know what it’s like to be cold and hungry. To be hurt and disappointed. To be lonely. To weep over loss. To ultimately be betrayed.
Hope came. Immanuel, God with us. God with you. Sitting with you in the middle of whatever mess you find yourself in. He knows. He’s there to wrap you in arms that are bigger than everything else happening at this particular place and time in your life.
You are not alone.
He is Grace for every moment.