Hanging In There

It feels as if a long time has passed since I've written anything here, when in fact it has only been about a week. In the past, I would still usually write "drafts" in the meantime that may or may not ever get posted, but lately I haven't even been doing that. Alot of factors have gone into my lack of writing. First, with trying to get everything ready for the new baby my free time has dwindled down to almost nothing, and what few moments are left I find I am too tired to get motivated to do much besides lose myself in a good book or simply just try to go to sleep.

Secondly, I generally write during my girl's rest time in the afternoon, but now that Eliza has moved into Dana's bedroom, Dana gets to have her hour of down time in the family room, which doesn't lead to alot of peace and quiet for me! I've gotten used to her little munchkin voice as "background music" during this precious hour that I used to be able to call my own, but the constant barrage of questions, comments, and requests she sends my way doesn't lend itself to any serious soul-searching.

And third, to be honest, I have almost welcomed the excuse to not sit down and sort out what I am feeling. This site has become very much a form of therapy for me, a way to vent my thoughts and ideas, and in the last couple of weeks it seems much easier to go through my days in an oblivious state of numbness without having to confront any of those unfavorable emotions that are trying to creep their way to the surface and find their way out.

I can sense those rough and tough feelings hovering around me, and there's so many of them that I have made a conscious choice to simply not deal with them. There are many things in my life which bring me joy, and to focus on them has been a much easier and gentler path for me to follow lately. However, I am always aware of the ever-present grief that circles my heart, my throat, and my tearducts, just waiting for the first chance for release. I can sense the anger that has become this grief's constant companion, lying in wait for the opportunity to pounce on the nearest unsuspecting victim. An almost paralyzing anxiety grabs hold of me when I realize that I am going to be adding another child to this family in just over two weeks, and a feeling of helplessness overcomes me, telling me that there is no way I can be a good mother to three children, when I already feel as if I am making enough mistakes with just two. And I can feel the onslaught of "Mom-guilt" already settling into my heart of hearts when I look at my two daughters and ponder how they are going to adjust to this new disruption to their lives. I realize that alot of their reaction depends on me, and the urge to just give up and give in to the thoughts that I will soon be in way over my head threatens to settle in.

And then, the one thing that has been plaguing me the most... the guilt that has found me over and over again recently when I take stock of my relationship with Christ and realize that I have almost completely, and quite willingly, let His influence in my life go by the wayside.

It is this, more than anything else, that has finally brought me in front of this keyboard today. I miss Him. I miss the closeness I shared with Him. I miss the desire I once had (not that long ago) to devote every minute of every day to becoming a better disciple of His. I miss His inspiration, His affirmation, His confirmation, His presence everywhere I turned.

And what makes it worse is that it's me that left Him. And it's me that continues to leave Him every day. It's a terrible feeling, and the hardest part is that I feel as if I can't even help myself from doing it. Every night it's the same scenario. I sit down to do my devotions, open my Bible hoping against hope to be inspired by just the right words, become overwhelmed with the process of finding said passage, flip through page after page, book after book, lose hope, dishearteningly close my Bible, fold my hands to pray, become awash with longing for Him and guilt for having been rejecting Him, succumb to my weariness and sadness, unfold my hands, lay down, and try to ignore feeling like the failure that I must surely have become in His sight.

A couple nights ago, as I was "book-hopping" in my Bible, trying to focus on any verse that might bring me out of these devotional doldrums, my pages fell open to 2 Timothy 2:13. The words struck me, and brought about a sense of comfort and calm that has alluded me for a long, long time. The verse is this:

"If we are faithless, He will remain faithful, for He cannot disown Himself."

I needed to hear this. I needed to be reminded that during the days, weeks, or even months where I just don't have it in me to be on fire for Him that not only will He not leave me, but He cannot leave me. He is a part of me, and I am a part of Him, and nothing can or will ever change this. Not my exhaustion, not my pain, not my constant putting on hold of my time with Him, nothing. I have spent so much of my time lately concentrating on all the ways in which I have let Him down, and thinking about how fed up with me He must be that I completely discounted His never-ending love for me, and His desire for me to share as much of myself with Him as I am able. He will take whatever I will offer Him. He knows how empty I feel right now, He knows that the only things that seem to spark any reaction out of me are those things I'm trying to ignore, He knows that at the end of the day I just want to escape into dreamland out of sheer exhaustion, and He has promised to stick with me, and wait for me, and care for me in any way that I will let Him.

What an awesome, awesome guy, who deserves so much more from me.

Dear Lord in heaven,
I pray this day so, so sorry. I'm having a rough time right now with everything that has happened in the past, and the things that will be happening in the near future. And to top it all off I find myself pushing away the only person that will absolve me of these things... You.

You see me, Lord. You know I am scared, I am anxious, I am tired, I am sad, and I am overwhelmed. I also have decided to go this road alone, shutting You out of my life, convincing myself that I have fallen so far from You that it is my job and my job only to pull myself up again.

Thank You, for reminding me that I never fall so far as to fall out of Your grasp. You are near to me now, I can feel You. Help me to trust You again, and forgive me for allowing myself to lose that trust to begin with. I thought it would be easier to do this by myself. I was wrong.

I need You now, Lord, to help me prepare for what's ahead of me and to deal with what has happened in my past. Only You help me keep things in perspective, only You have the ability to transform my anxiousness into peace, my anger into understanding, my guilt into the knowledge that I am forgiven, and my longing for You back into a relationship with You.

I don't know how long it's going to take for me to get back to where I was, but I know that You are here with me, and you also are already there ahead of me, ready to help me in any way possible, encouraging me, loving me, and willing to take any part of me that I am able to give.

Thank You for your promises, Lord, my promise to You is that I will keep trying...

I love You, Lord. That is the one thing that has never, and will never change. Thank You for reciprocating that love with absolutely no strings attached. You are a good friend, You are my good friend. I need that right now, even if I have been doing a not-so-good job of showing it. I am so grateful for your inability and your unwillingness to ever leave me. I rely on this, and I will rely on You.

In Your Name I pray,
Amen