I prayed the Lord would renew my heart in a specific way. I prayed that He would make my heart match His. In my human mind the answer would be clear and swift because it was a “good” prayer. It was a “good” request.
My mind is not the Lord’s mind. He clearly closed a door and yet I didn’t swiftly or clearly feel the renewal I had prayed for. I still don’t.
I prayed the Lord would renew my heart. He didn’t answer the way I expected, but He is making me new. Deepening my understanding and knowledge. Teaching me about faith and His love. Renewal of my heart and mind.
How do I rest my mind when the to do lists and the questions and the overanalyzing of what I did or didn’t say or what I should or shouldn’t say play on repeat?
How I rest my heart when the hurts of yesterday and the aches of today and the concerns of tomorrow throb a rhythmic beat ?
How do I rest my hands when they move to earn love, to gain worth, to keep value?
I must learn to trust. I must learn to rest.
I must learn to trust if I am to learn to rest.
It becomes simple only when I begin to trust.
His Word and Provision. His Love. His Grace. His Gentle Spirit.
His Redemption. His Worth.
My mind learns to rest when I trust that my days are numbered and ordered by the Sovereign One and each day abounds with new mercies and grace.
My heart learns to rest when I trust the rhythm that I am loved and held. That those I love are held. That His ways are higher. That His ways are better..
My hands learns to rest when I trust that nothing I can achieve can earn me more love, more worth, more value than simply being His.
I will trust. I will rest. I will rest because I trust.
When the snow falls down, it feels possible to slow down. It seems right to linger by the window and watch the flakes float to the ground. It seems right to hear the crunch of the ice under small feet, to savor the hot chocolate, to take a nap under a heavy blanket. It seems easier on these days to take it slow and give thanks for the gift. When there is magic outside the window it seems ok to let the laundry pile up, to read another chapter in the book, or to sit on the couch with your loved ones. The world seems just a little quieter, a little slower, and so do we.
When the snow doesn’t fall down, it is still possible to slow down. It is still right to linger by windows and watch the sun filter through the trees or listen to the rhythm of rain falling down. It is right to savor our daily bread and give our mind and bodies rest. It is good to slow down and give thanks for gifts. There doesn’t have to be snow on the ground to let the laundry pile a little higher, to read another chapter or sit with loved ones. We may not always see magic outside our window but there is always grace. This world may not be a little quieter, a little slower, but we have permission to be.
My #10yearchallenge shows me smiling and excepting baby #3. It was fun to look back. There were so many pictures to choose from, finishing Christmas, celebrating a second birthday, or our annual Valentine date with friends. I treasure them all in my heart.
But 10 years ago, I also battled perinatal/postpartum depression. There were certainly moments of light and joy, but the last trimester and first few months after the birth of our daughter were also filled with very dark days. I battled things and thoughts I never imagined I would. I wept and pushed away those who loved me. It wasn’t until the lowest point that I found the courage to seek help.
10 years ago, I was also making regular visits with my babies to our local health department to pick up WIC vouchers to help get groceries. We didn’t come from money. We didn’t own a house or live in the ‘right’ neighborhood or send our kids to the ‘right’ school. My husband was a youth pastor in a small town. I stayed home with our young children. At times I earned extra money watching my friends’ children. At one point my husband worked three jobs so we could pay our basic bills and fund the seminary education we needed to obey the Lord’s calling.
There are no pictures to post of these things. To be honest, I didn’t want anyone to know. Though I gratefully recognize the vouchers for food and medicine as provision now, back then my need for them left me feeling embarrassed or even ashamed. I felt confused. I felt like an outsider to many groups around me. The world, and even many in the church, falsely told me that I wasn’t “_____” enough. That if I read my Bible more I wouldn’t be depressed; if I obeyed the Lord things would go well for me. We were doing our best to be faithful, so why did life look so different than those who claimed to be #blessed? I wrestled with these questions and realities,and at times I fought what the Lord was doing because it didn’t match “the American Dream.”
10 years later, a lot has happened and changed. I no longer have babies and we no longer visit the WIC office. I haven’t been on meds for depression in several years. We live in a different state, my husband finished seminary, and we answered the call to pastoral ministry –we even added a kid. A lot has stayed the same too. We still seek to be faithful, but we also still live on a budget. We still don’t live in what many would call the ‘right’ neighborhood or send our kids to the ‘right’ schools. We aren’t always members of the ‘right’ groups and we still feel like outsiders at times. I still periodically need to evaluate my mental health. There are still parts of our lives that simply don’t match the “American Dream”.
Pictures can’t capture many of the deeper changes in the last 10 years because they are in my heart and mind. I know that I am not “___” enough, and I’m honestly thankful. I have tasted God’s grace and goodness in ways that I never could have without the hunger pains he allowed. There is an intimacy and a depth to my understanding of the Lord as Provider, Comforter, Father,because of my needs, my tears, my failings. My weakness shows me His strength. It’s still hard to share things like this. I still battle shame at times, but I know its name and I know it has no place. I still have longings and dreams, but I try to hold them more loosely because I know Whose plans are best. I still have questions about many things, but I also have hard-fought confidence in Who holds the answers. I am learning that the true reward for being faithful is knowing the Faithful One more deeply.
I wonder what stories I’ll share of the next 10 years? I expect some will be sweet and joyful; some will be hard and painful; many will be both. It would be dishonest to say I didn’t want them to be comfortable and easy. But I also want to continue know Him more. I know that, deep down, I don’t want to be so full of a comfortable life that I forget the taste of sweetness that comes from the manna that only He provides. I don’t want to hurt, but I don’t want to forget what it means to be held and sustained. I don’t want things to be hard, but I don’t want to miss the amazing ways He moves in our lives when we least expect it. I don’t know what the next #10yearchallenge will hold, but I know the One Who does.
Writing with Rocks 