I have been struggling this week. I love sitting in people’s joy with them. I love being “so busy worshipping to continue sitting in doubt and hopelessness”. Even if it is sensitive and touchy, I love finding Joy where sadness should exist. I have a friend in the hospital. She is 33 weeks and she has a slight leak of her amniotic fluid. She is there until baby comes. I get to love on her and bring her care baskets and talk baby names and count downs, etc. It is genuinely such a sweet place to be to love on my people. After I visit, the walk out of the building is the longest ever. I can’t wait to get into her room to see her and when it’s done, I need to get out because the silent walk out brings the flood of my feelings. I pray my people never stop inviting me in to their joy and their hard. I want to be there. And it’s not about me. But in the quiet of the night, when I’ve gotten home and my mind has time to process… it comes. Like a flood.

Sadness.

Anger.

Being in a birthing room when my answer from God is “no” is one of the hardest things. And it has been something that has brought me to my knees in prayer over and over this week. Not only for me, but for her too.

It’s where longing meets reality. While I have hope and I believe in a God who CAN, I also want to learn to be content if He doesn’t.

I reached out to a friend of mine in confidence and told her I was struggling. She made me feel normal and also spoke hope. I asked the simple question “How do you stay content in the waiting?”. She too is waiting. And receiving nos.

1. Her response reminded me that we never get to see everything that goes on behind closed doors. She had sat in tears in her husband’s arms just the night before. Contentment is not the absence of longing or asking. It’s being willing to sit in the middle and asking for a different door to open if the one you’re knocking on doesn’t open. But also, knock.
2. We perceive contentment as the absence of sorrow. I know I’ve written about this before, but I need the reminders. Grief comes in waves. It stays at bay for a while and then comes crashing back in. We can lament over things and still believe He is good. My tears don’t define my trust in God. They aren’t proof that I don’t fully believe His plans are better.

I went to her house the next day. Conversations stalled a bit even though we are friends. I just had nothing to give. And she saw that. She then said something so profound, it shook my core. I’ve heard it before. I had heard similar sentiments. For some reason, this struck a cord.

“I will literally drop whatever I am doing when I realize I could be with my kids because they don’t wait”.

They don’t wait…

I could stop what I am doing and sit in the grief. I could be laid up on my couch empty and numb. I could be pointlessly scrolling 24/7. I could distract myself and obsessively clean or be gone all of the time.

But they don’t wait. My kids need the best me now. Every day I give over to sadness is a day I loose with my kids.

I’m brought back to my word for the year. “Motives”. It’s actually “purpose”, like “what’s the purpose behind the things I am doing?”. But I felt like God wanted me to check my motives. Am I doing things because they glorify God or am I doing things because I want to look good, or because I am giving to sadness, or because I want it… etc. Am I chasing the things God is calling me to?

Frankly, I’ve been doom scrolling a lot lately. More than I’d like. Between my physical issues lately and my low energy and chemical imbalances and probably some left over depression… it’s hard to WANT to do anything. My mind is more forgetful lately. I’m not home as often. We are in crazy hours. I could keep coming up with excuses. But the truth is, I am selfish and lazy with what little time I have and I have let the weight of everything be my purpose. Not because I meant to, but because it’s quiet and sneaky and somewhere along the way, I made the agreement that “this is just where I am at”.

And it’s not true.

I don’t have to stay here. I don’t have to continue doing the things I have been doing. I can make small and simple shifts in my rhythms and remember my “why”. I follow a God that is bigger then my circumstances and bigger than my feelings and bigger then my health problems. Because my kids won’t wait. I don’t want to spend one more day lost and dead when I can sit in their joy. The joy I have already been given. My joy comes from the Lord, not my circumstances. I can find life in Christ…in the life I have…

Under The Sun.