I had this post all ready to go today to talk about my busy summer and how much I loved being home with my kids. I was ready to give you the top four list of what I’ll be writing about now that I’m dusting the blog off after virtually taking the summer off. As it stands, I don’t know that I’ll be publishing that post now.

And here’s why…

It began when my husband and I went to see the movie War Room last night. We needed to get away from the stress and strain of this changing life and constant enemy attacks for a nice evening out. So I liked to think.

There I sat in the darkness of that cold theatre, working hard to make certain those tears fell silently down my cheeks. Yet my heart was in a spin as I allowed suppressed bitterness to surface once more. Strongholds that I thought were locked and buried away decided to show up, fashionably late.

You, God, have this way of making sure I’m never done growing. That I’m never done forgiving nor asking to be forgiven.

So this letter is to you. This is what’s on my heart today…

I dropped the kids off at school and even took the youngest to her part-time sitter so I could wrap my head around all the things You left in my lap last night. I sat in my van in the garage for thirty minutes, sobbing heavily as I shouted at the devil one minute while asking You to forgive me the next. Sweeping things under the rug has always been a specialty of mine, but now…well, You’ve removed that covering entirely. Years worth of dust, lost pieces of the puzzle and bits of my heart scattered everywhere.

…and here I thought I’d been doing pretty well, Lord.

You knew. You knew I needed to surrender more of myself. The fact that I walked away from my career to invest more time in my family, handed over my heart to begin chasing your desires instead of my own, and spending the last two years working side-by-side with You to overcome all my confidence issues – well that just wasn’t enough for You, was it?

You had to uncover what was so well hidden, exposing more baggage than a pile of lost luggage on a trip around the world.

I suppose I should be grateful because this sort of thing draws a person closer to You. It serves as a reminder that our attempts at life are so futile without Your loving hand upon every detail. It serves as a bridge to close the gap that keeps us from being mere acquaintances as opposed to a full-on father/daughter relationship.

In truth, I feel a little sick. Sick for the bitter circumstances that I chose to hastily tuck away rather than confront through prayer. Sick for the comforts of this world that I desperately cling to, despite how much they distract me from You.

I told a friend that I’m continuing to “pray it through.” Because so often I feel that I catch a glimpse of where You’ll have me go and I don’t listen to the rest. That quick prayer seems to be enough and I jump at the first whisper of an answer. I don’t soak up three days of waiting as I set myself apart for you, consecrating myself before I so boldly step out into my proverbial Jordan on faith alone that the current will cease. I run on ahead, throwing myself into deeper waters without keeping my eyes on the covenant that keeps me afloat.

So, yes, this time I pray it through to the end. I refuse to settle and I will wait on you, Lord.

I remember the 1000 gifts you’ve bestowed on my undeserving life and I fill up with gratitude. For reclaiming sincere promises You made to me, retrieving lost confidences from long ago, and rebuilding misplaced friendships. I am again reminded that with You, no stone is left unturned. No change happens and no hardship is experienced without Your love ready to comfort and Your strength ready to fight in my favor. 

It’s easy to believe that I must do the redeeming on my own and that the rest can go unnoticed as I search out the perfect hiding spot.  …but now I know there’s no such thing.

Thank You, Lord, for loving me as I am. On the days I still cling to unresolved bitterness, unwilling to let go, thinking I’ve fooled myself and those around me that “I’m just fine” – thank You for knowing that I’m not. And that I won’t be…without handing it all over to You.

Thank you for showing up. Again and again. Because without You in my corner…

Well, let’s just not even go there.

*******

For those of you waiting to hear about Kenya those words are coming soon, but not all at once. There’s a lot to tell and I’ve been processing much. For now…this just needed to be said.