And then what?
And then life happens. 2009 happened. And I'll get there. But life is happening. I can't stop it, nor do I want to, but what I am longing for is for this heavy gray blob on my back that keeps hacking away at my mind, my heart, my faith, my family, my joy, my peace...I'm longing for it to incinerate. That would be awesome. Randomly. Quickly. Yesterday. Yeah, that would be fantastic.
I made a committment to write 31 days and my plan was to tell about my 31 years of life, and I think I've been mostly successful at sticking to that thesis. But life happens. How do I go backwards tonight when I am ever so stuck in the present? Drowning in it.
I think the way this month has played out is an excellent comparison to my life. Is keeping the commitment what is important or keeping it to the letter? Is it more important that you show up, or that you show up, dressed out, feeling fierce? I don't know. I wish I felt like I could show up, dressed, out, feeling fierce right now, but instead I'm in my pajamas, hiding in my room, hiding all the ways, limping, feeling broken. But I showed up. That has to count for something right?
And that is true of my faith in these days. I've got questions without answers. I have fear and sorrow and brokenness. I've been angry with God. I wonder why He tarries and doesn't bring resolution. And I know all the holy talk. I know the Word better than a lot of people I know. And that is the only thing I hold fast to. David and his cries of pain and desperation, longing to be rescued from his foes. My Jesus, pleading, begging, weeping blood, that the cup would pass. The cup that He drank to the dregs, not just of the beating and the crucifixion, but mostly of the sin of the world from alpha to omega. He longed that it would pass, but "nevertheless, not my will, but Yours God." Who have we but You God? There is none. There is no hope. If I leave this place, I only go into more darkness. Only these glasses fit. Only this lens gives me perspective.
Only this One.
Today started out poorly and has ended much the same. I'm thankful that sleep will come soon and that tomorrow has new mercies. I am overwhelmed. Not just with the unfinished business of our adoption, but more this certain middle child who is a giant puzzle with mostly missing pieces. A child who has attachment behaviors. A child who is acting out of that place of brokenness in ways that initially were annoying, but at times are downright scary. I fear his future. I fear my lack of understanding and ability about what to do for him. I have never felt so lost with a child under my care before. I have questioned everything right down to the moment he moved in. God, did I miss you? Was this someone else's task, because I am not equipped. I'm afraid for me, for him, and really for the others. How can I parent them all? How can I love well? How can I give attention to four others when this one is sucking the life from me?
This is my story.
God how can I bring You glory in this when I am lying on the ground bleeding and broken? When those around me stare at me as if I'm an alien. The ones that should understand me, don't understand. I'm isolated, alone. No man can help and most don't want to. God how can I be uplifting in this moment, in this story, when I don't even feel it myself?
There is none beside you. Only darkness apart from you. And yet I will stay. I will get up and fight. I will desperately search for You here. You are all I have. And I'm angry and I feel abandoned, and I'm weak and frail and desperate. But I have only You. And I know You will come like You always have before.
And maybe my story, my testimony, my giving Him praise, is just that...
That I showed up and I didn't quit. I didn't quit even when I felt like quitting.
Lord bring Yourself glory in this. Somehow in that way You do, bring beauty from these ashes.