An abrupt statement, I know.
A relieved statement.
A definite answer after a week and a half of days that were weeks long for the lack of one.
I drove four hours yesterday for the answer after a local OB/GYN refused to see me because I had done a home birth with Bredon.
I know I promised part IV of my God-love story today. I know I may not have time to write it tomorrow before the cable provider comes and moves our service to the new house.
Which does not yet have a working kitchen sink.
We are hardly packed.
We have no one coming to help.
My husband is working early and late at the office.
I have three loads of laundry begging a folding. I have another two loads to run.
I have cried often lately.
I am overwhelmed. I am barely moving today.
Pete is sick, too. I think he may have walking pneumonia. Not that he'll go to a doctor. Not that he has time.
There is no way out but through, like labor, like life. I can't turn off the things that come at me, no matter how hard I try. And I can't run away, as much as I want to.
I don't think I could have guessed that my life would ever look like this. When I left home, I could run my Mom's house for her, manage the eight of us kids, cook meals, do laundry, take care of her goats, keep the house clean. I used to do it. Why can't I do it now? I write and take pictures because I have energy for little else. Why does it take a force of will that is greater than I am to get me up out of my chair?
The kids are fed. Their diapers are changed. They are clothed.
That is all I can manage. You can imagine what my husband is doing. Pray for him, please.
I don't think I am writing for sympathy, so please don't offer. I'm so befuddled; I'm just trying to figure out what I'm doing today, and this is the first quiet moment I've had since 5:30 this morning when the baby woke.
Someone is praying "wherewithal" for me today. She pressed God for a word to pray for me. Strength, healing, and wherewithal.
Does that mean that He thinks I can do this with Him?
Paul said that the secret of his contentment in any circumstance was that he could do all things through Christ who strengthened him.
When the rubber of my faith meets the road, how much do I truly believe God will come through for me, for His own glory? Especially when we are told to glory in our weakness? What does His coming through even look like?
I am a physical person. My needs are intensely physical. It is part of being dust.
I am worrying about tomorrow when God is speaking of me today to someone else. What is He seeing to for tomorrow that I don't know? I want to know. About twice per hour these last few days, I conclude that I cannot go on, I cannot keep living like this. Grace only goes so far, I think to myself. I have to get up and DO something.
I don't laugh much right now. Bredon does. He giggles already. He invites me into his happy. And Piper... I can't knock her fun out of the park just because I don't have energy to clean up after her. But I cried on the floor after taking those pictures. Because I just stared and stared for an hour before I could figure out what to do to clean it up.
I used to keep up; why not now?
I know God loves me; I know His love doesn't mean that my life will be perfect. Or easy. But it can be honest.
As I was crying over Piper's powder, washing her in the tub, bathing Bredon while I was at it, I thought of my own mess. The mess that is my life right now.
Messes get cleaned up.
But sometimes, there are more immediate needs.
Needs like deep trust-growing. The sacrifices of God - bruised reeds and broken hearts. Wherewithal - "That with which to do something; means or supplies for the purpose or need."
I think the wherewithal is not for the physical today. I need it for my heart. To hold on. To thank God. To be satisfied that He is enough; to believe and rejoice that He is my reward.
I wish that I were the sort of person who would draw near to God without having my own strength stretched so. But He has given me much; I am rich in know-how. It is hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Being poor-in-spirit; that is something I am learning. The poor in spirit get the whole thing.
Paradoxical, this faith is. Choosing impoverishment to gain such Treasure as cannot be imagined. Dying to live; believing without seeing.
God becoming man.
It is not the meeting of my physical needs that settles my heart.
I am not pregnant.
Unnecessary as the weight was, it is gone for now. It is not much. But it is something. Something I feared. Something God did not allow.
He could have. And He could have been strong for me in it. But I am so, so glad He didn't. I hope it is okay to admit that.
I will share the unfinished Part IV of my love story next Thursday. Sorry for the wait. It's an ongoing thing. I expect you get that.
(Image © Informal Moments Photography)