Hey, yes I’m talking to you. You cute, young bride, you. You handsome, brave groom. I’m talking to you people. You have no idea what you’re doing. You are standing there, walking there. Laughing and talking there. You think you … Continue reading
We’ve been up at Willow Creek for the evening. Sarah Bessey was there, and so I had to go. And then I had to stay and then I hugged her and didn’t tell her well enough how her words have … Continue reading
To my sweet babies, I recently attended an event where the speaker was lauded for suffering something great without anyone knowing about it. And I felt my cheeks burn red while I politely put my hands together for this cancer … Continue reading
Today I’m excited to share the story of how the Lord planted seeds of motherhood in my life. For a little bit about me, you can head over to the “About” page. “You can tell me if I’m wrong, but … Continue reading
I don’t want to say I wasn’t honest yesterday, because I was.
It’s maybe more accurate to say I didn’t paint the full picture. This is probably true for two reasons:
1. I panicked when I looked at the clock and realized that nap time was only going to last for another hour and if I wanted to sleep, I better start sleeping RIGHT AWAY.
2. The rest of the picture isn’t really pretty.
The rest of the picture is me in my PJs (which are actually my husband’s clothes, because so few of mine fit) on the couch at 5:45 am next to a growing mound of tissues because I’ve been awake for two hours and I can’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep.
It’s spending those two hours alternating between praying for friends, worrying about a possible induction, analyzing every gas bubble and baby kick, and praying both for patient endurance and that I would go into labor RIGHT NOW, PLEASE. (also, reading dumb stuff on the internet.)
It’s sharp words spoken to a gentle and patient husband.
It’s the overwhelming feeling that there’s no way I can possibly wake up pregnant one. more. time.
It’s the struggle I feel to make the most of my last few days as a momma of just one baby outside my belly, and the fact that I am literally so tired, I can’t make it through the day without at least one and usually two naps.
I am so bad at waiting.
I don’t like it.
And yet, even though I’m failing…miserably, even though I am not as disciplined as I would like to be or as patient as I feel like I should be, the Lord is working. And it doesn’t require my pretending as though I’m somewhere I’m not.
I feel like this applies to so many areas of life because we live in a fallen world as citizens of a kingdom that is already here but not yet here. And we’re always waiting. Waiting for the day when death dies, suffering stops, peace prevails. When people don’t wage wars, speak harsh words, rip families apart. The day when all the bad things finally, finally come untrue. When the night ends and we don’t need artificial light because everything is illuminated by the Shining One.
We’re all waiting.
My prayer as the early morning turns to the regular morning, and my toddler gets ready to wake up and say, “Chase, Momma, CHASE!” and I have to figure out how I’m going to do that when I am 40 pounds heavier and 3 hours of sleep lighter is that the Lord meets me in my waiting. That he meets you in your waiting. Whatever it is for: children, jobs, homes, reconciliation, answers, healing, peace.
May this waiting birth in all of us a hunger for heaven, for the day when we see His face, are known plainly as his children, and live in the light of his unhindered brilliance. (Rev. 22: 4-5) Let us anchor our hope to Jesus and to his kingdom as we wait, when the picture is pretty and when it isn’t.