So here’s the thing- this season SUCKS! In almost every way I hate it. Uncomfortable doesn’t even come close. It HURTS. ALOT. There is more life-long loss and change than my poor little heart wants to admit. We’ve been through the wringer (several times…) and quite frankly I now have a much better understanding and empathy for why some people may become alcoholics or drug addicts during stressful times- because the temptation to NUMB is overwhelming at times. Since we’re in an admission zone, I’ve consider more than once packing my bags and disappearing- not because I hate my spouse or family, but because this season is HARD. it’s impossible. ‘Hard” doesn’t do justice to the feelings of rage, utter betrayal, complete failure, stress, loss, despair, overwhelming grief, that my soul feels on the daily.
And with it comes the inevitable STUCK.
I am, Gabe and I are, this Douglas family is- irrevocably and irreversibly…. STUCK in this life we’ve chosen. Many think us mad- I’d agree. Many worry we’ve taken on too much- I’d agree. Others whisper we can’t handle it all- let me tell you… you have no idea. I’d agree. And I’ll do you one further- if I could run away and leave it all behind… I would.
Let me tell you some truths-
Am I mad at our loss? Yes. Are God and I not on the best of circumstances right now? Yes. Am I questioning a lot of my own understanding of God’s promises to me? Absolutely. Do I lose my cool too often, too readily, too willingly- because sometimes anger is the easiest and most comfortable emotion to put on a brave face? To my detriment- yes. Do I find it hard to pray for certain things, specifics lost in the rage, betrayal ready at my memory which keeps my mouth from uttering my heart’s desires? For sure.
My anger for the most part has abated. After all I’m way too practical to simply sit down and stamp my feet like a child (incidentally- MY child has far out-shone me during all this. A blog about which I will write someday of the lessons I’ve learned in faith like a child). But now I find myself in the resignation stage. I’m knee deep in ecclesiastical musings. I’m simply resigned. Resigned to servanthood of our King. And I’m not even mad about it. I’m resigned that God’s word is true, His goodness confounding but steadfast, His designs and pathways true- He will do what He wills and what He wants… always. It may hurt. In fact the Bible warns us it will. Nothing on this earth is a given easy-pass. Adonai will get His glory at all costs (up to and including His killing His Son… so again I can’t be too mad, we just lost a foot.). But He IS the King. Master. Yahweh God. And I’m quite contently back as His servant. It’s a safe place. I know I’ll be taken care of. My life and those of my children and family are forfeit to His reign. It’s safe. And I’m proud and happy to have this little spot in His Kingdom.
What I’m not okay with is being His daughter. And that’s where the rub in all this mess appears. Something broke this time around- it’s sad I even have to quantify WHICH time around I’m referring to…. but nevertheless- something broke in my heart with God this time. I don’t feel like a daughter. I don’t feel like there’s an Abba. There’s a particular, familial intimacy that I had been trying to nurture for the better part of two years that was severed quite completely. I don’t feel like a princess of the King and furthermore I don’t really want to be one. I’m more than content to be a servant. Dedicated. Obedient. Faithful. But certainly not daughter- because quite frankly that feels too insecure, too risky, too full of broken promises.
And there you have it.
So this journey continues. I am content. Broken. Humbled. But also obedient and faithful. This path I’ve chosen leaves me no choice quite frankly. I’m stuck. God-stuck. And it’s of my own choosing- I don’t know that I could have anticipated the sacrifices this christian thing requires- but again I look upon the Cross and I am gobsmacked (or more accurately Godsmacked) and am reminded that of COURSE it requires a foot… or a job… a broken relationship…. or a precious loss. Of COURSE it does- because the very image and Person I’ve decided to trust implicitly was murdered for His obedience to God. Why would my sacrifice and loss be anything easier?
On paper it seems simple yet as far too many know the day-to-day reality of walking like this takes its toll. The sons and daughters of El Elyon tread continually with cuts and scrapes, lost limbs and loves. We are the battered and bruised- mourning our losses even as Christ mourns alongside us.
This too shall pass… but there will be more to come. Discouragement beckons at my door at times, yet I feel like my attitude and expectations for this life have adjusted to a more realistic viewpoint. The grass isn’t greener on the next hill. It’s not greener in that job or with that person. It’s not more lush within that group or that membership. The grass is only greener- and hear me in this- the grass is ONLY greener on the other side of heaven- through the veil of eternity. Where abiding rest and full protection from death and illness, escape finally from grief and bewilderment at evil, is promised forever; THAT is where the light at the end of this tunnel called humanity lies. That is where the grass is green and lush. Yay is when and where I’ll be able to fully let down and rest. That is when and where my expectations for the ‘easy life’ are placed.
So for now I’m putting the pieces back together to rise up and come out swinging. If God is most glorified in the midst of trial then bring. it. on. I don’t know when or how or what it’s gonna look like, but all glory and majesty to Adonai. May He ever be praised. May His mercies last forever- through pain and loss, grief and trial- May His Name be glorified to the end of the earth. And if it takes every limb from my family’s bodies and the breath from my lungs, I will still swing towards the eternal fences. I will be honest. I will hurt and grieve, but I will not be silent about my God.