Wednesday, March 31, 2010
it is part of a becoming, isn't it?
i am not now, but I will be.
the words that spill out are so much dross from silver being refined.
i half wonder what my readers must think when i leave up posts such as i have written recently, when i so publicly display my questions and worries and doubts about God. if i have so many issues, it seems miraculous that i should believe Him at all.
or, that might be the point.
that i do believe Him, even when i feel i can't act on it. here i live, human, daring His wrath because i dare to trust His love that provides me such grace to fall. not that i want to fall. it is grace to fail too, grace for tired and trying to do too much in my own strength. grace to let me learn to look first to Him instead of wishing Him away.
which i spent much of yesterday doing as He reminded me to be gentle with pip, to not heap burden on burden - oh, how i want to hold things over her right now! i wished God away, wished His love away, because i wanted to be angry.
and i spent today in pursuit of an empty hope. it was so stupidly shallow i won't bother writing it here (do you see, there ARE things i hold back for embarrassment!). pete offered me more understanding than i could give myself - he said, "it's something you could look forward to that isn't what you always have right now."
i try not to duck. but i have been ducking. trying to perfect this and that and - did you notice that other thing? i've worked on everything from favicons to icons to buttons to watermarks in between discipline and nursing over the last few days. the shame of it is that i don't feel i've accomplished anything at all.
it is silly for this restless heart to try to force its own rest.
i have been shutting things out. trying to still the roaring in my head. trying not to look at ________ or at _________, trying to remember that they didn't start where they intimidate me now, realizing that they must have had some sort of becoming too.
tonight i let it go for a while. quit trying to think it out and make it better. went to "wommuhtt" with my family to pick up some dinner and a "huggabugga" (piper loves going to walmart; she saw a wendy's on the way and asked for a hamburger). i watched some scrubs with pete (when he wasn't policing piper) and talked with bredon for a bit (he loves his conversations with mama).
do you know, b has the sweetest poochie lip i've ever seen? when his daddy is holding him and he sees me, he pulls it out and lets me have it: "mommy, how can you let this man hold me when you're right here?!"
i value my dinner times. they are shorter than they used to be. i'm adjusting.
so i am neither here nor there; it has not yet been revealed what i will be when God is finished with me. the seed must fall to the ground and die before it can live again and bear much fruit.
i thought the dying was done. i hoped it was over, anyway. it's so... uncomfortable.
yet it is also beautiful, blown by Spirit-wind from the stem where i cling into the current of God-love known and God-love lived as i test this newest trust.
crucified, yet alive. a piercing paradox from a Master who became a servant, the Life who died, Love Himself who was hated by those He loved.
i don't have a heart for God, not lately, not most days. my own passion waxes and wanes, and i find it waning this week. He requires so much of me, it seems. still, i sense His heart for me, and i feel hope that i matter to Him, that He doesn't simply work in spite of me. i wonder if my prayers do make a difference to Him, if they are more than basic conversation or vending machine access, if He really wishes to take my heart into account in how He works out His plans for me.
you know. the plans for a hope and a future. the plans He has for His people.
plans. not wishes.
i'm not okay with sitting here, deciding i've arrived and this is the end, so i'd better conform to the highest ideals or accept my utter failure.
but i'm okay with becoming.
there's lots of room for hope in that. room for beauty. i feel silly admitting how i want that, how it has nothing to do with my outward appearance and everything to do with a quiet, God-stayed heart He is growing out of scar tissue.
my words seem to spill in what seems a long sigh - sometimes frustrated, sometimes tired, sometimes easing into rest.
He meets me here, too much for me, enough for me to approach Him for mercy, for love, for rest.
I Am who is I Am takes my dross makes me real like Him.
Yes, I am becoming.
(Image © Informal Moments Photography)