More often than I ever share, I hate being weak.  I can’t really explain what happened to my brain around the age  of 19-20, but something fractured for me, and there are things about me, burdens that I carry that I will keep tight to the vest.

The last few months, I have cried myself to sleep with regularity.  And it sucks.  It is hard to carry a burden that you can’t do anything but cry out to God about.  (Sidenote: this is the part of being single that COMPLETELY BLOWS and any married person who tells me otherwise deserves to publicly apologize to their spouse for basically being a douche bag.  And YES, I said it.)  I have cried out to God A LOT.  I have begged, I have pleaded, I have praised, I have prayed.  I have sought more earnestly and more fervor than I think I ever have in my life.  I had a thought the other day while I was thinking about how I’ve prayed more this year that, it’s supposed to be that way.  Each year will force you to dig deeper into Jesus.  To want to be completely enveloped in the grace, not as some divine Calgon, but because you know it’s the only place of peace.  

And since I’m just being ridiculously transparent, I don’t burden my friends with this because I honestly doubt that they’ll be praying for me. 

I have lots of night where the magnitude of what I carry feels like an elephant on my chest.  

And what triggered my random crying spell at work today was something really stupid.  My brother is having a hard time finding NYC lotto tickets, which is part of our Christmas tradition.  And then I got the wind knocked out of my thinking about all of the changes that this Christmas will bring, and TEARS.

The kind of tears you can’t fight off.

The kind of tears that burn and sting and are full.

Because they’re heavy with a burden.

The only thing I can do is pray for a deep breath and cling to God’s promises.  He is Good.  He is FOR ME.  HE HAS NEVER ONCE FAILED ME.  AND I CHOSE TO TRUST HIM A LONG TIME AGO, even with my broken, hot mess life.  

I will bless the Lord at all times.  My lungs will expand with His Praise. Psalm 34:1 MSG


I have to wonder if this thing still works... Hmmmm....


:: grace ::

One of the things that I have not done in far too long… is write.  For reasons that either sound too silly or sound too pretentious, I have not made time to write.

Actually, that’s a lie.  I just didn’t want to anymore.  At least not for a while.  I wanted to live my life.  To be present and engaged and all the other words the cool kids are saying.  So I did.  I have lived and laughed and loved and been on dates and felt feelings I forgot I could feel.  It’s all magical, except not actually magical.

But something clicked in my head the other day and I had the urge to write.  Not feel profound so much as just write what’s on my heart. 

The only thing I know to write about has been the exciting season I’ve been in for about the last eight months.

But before I can tell you how awesome this season has been, I need to talk about the nine months prior.

Last January, I felt God telling me to do something.  While I know better, I disobeyed.  I argued with God.  I neither listened nor acted.  I was a sullen teenager to God who has proved Himself over and over again although He does not have to do that.  Flat out, I just did not want to do what He was telling me to do. And the festering began. 

Disobeying God in any shape or form comes with consequences.  For me… I can best describe what I felt as being toxic.  Spiritually toxic.  I wanted to go to church and dreaded it in the same breath.  I found myself, silly as it sounds, just wanting to punch people.  (For the record, I have never hit anyone in my life, save one guy that tried to kiss me.  He’s happily married with 3 kids.  I lose.)  I digress.  The smallest things annoyed me.  Compounded on my disobedience, I was actively telling God that I didn’t want to do what he was telling me to do because I couldn’t see any good for me in the process. (HOW SELFISH IS THAT? I AM DUMB.)  So, I fought him for nine months.  I wish that my toxicity was limited to just time at church, but of course it wasn’t.  It bubbled over into work.  Into friends.  It tainted relationships.  One Wednesday night in mid-August, it got ugly, and for the first time… I really started to see the dark.  The ugly.  The festering.  

And for one last month, I told God no.  I was gonna do it my way.  (Which has worked out so well, right?? Good grief.) I wrestled and prayed and cried.  I didn’t want to be obedient.

I am not too proud to say that my humanity is frail, weak, and pretty stupid.

So one Friday in September, I heard the Lord (not audible) tell me to stop running and listen.  And I did.  I resigned in my heart that I could not keep on keeping on.  Mostly because I was going to decimate all the good things in my life.

And for a moment, all hell broke loose.  Things got ugly. My step-brother was hospitalized in a coma. The state was asking me to adopt the kiddos.  I felt alone. 

But right in the middle of the chaos, God gave me a Ezra 9:8 moment.  A peg in the wall.

Mid-January I was talking with a very close friend.  In the middle of our conversation, I realized that all those feelings I was having about church – they were gone.  Like gone-gone.  Like “I didn’t know they could disappear so fast” kind of gone. It was crazy.  Billy was dead.  I was out of the kiddos lives. Everything was upside-down and awesome all at the same time. 

But a very seismic shift had occurred.   

And then I went on a date with this guy and felt feelings and it was weird because I forgot I could feel them and wait my heart isn‘t broken and I’m not hideous and all these things.  LOTS OF FEELINGS.  And yes that giant run-on sentence was exactly how I felt.  And whatever clicked in my head caused me to grow a backbone where I’d been spineless.

And then crazy stuff started happening at work.  It was WILD.

In the last six months, I have seen grace in a way that I have never seen in my 36 years.  And because I’m at a loss for words… It has honestly been the coolest thing ever.  Specifically over the last three weeks, I have been reminded daily that grace is amazing. And scandalous.  And mind-boggling.  And too big for my finite brain to understand. And I’m good with that.

And I’m so excited to see what’s coming next!