“Lord, I don’t have anything to share. I’ve written about this stuff already, and I’m not in a place to share anything else.”
(I didn’t call you to be profound, I called you to share your story; to be a window)
But I’m just sitting still. Okay actually I’m circling the same trail hoping it leads somewhere else.
And it all feels like mud. Sticky. Deep. Staining. Unpresentable. The kind of thick mud that you have to use lots of muscle to pull your foot out of, and you’ll probably lose a shoe.
I am just walking this out the best that I can Lord, but I feel like I didn’t listen or something because now I’m stuck and I’m a mess, and I hate where I am, I’m cold and I want a cheeseburger and my bed. Possibly a dark chocolate brownie.
The homemade kind.
I want to grow, I want this journey. But I’ve got growing pains and I feel like an awkward teen all over again.
I have spent the last three weeks taking care of my body and listening to what it needs. Getting more rest, drinking more water and detoxing as much as possible. It goes against every bone in my body to focus on my needs. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do it until I’m healthy again.
Turn the situation around and ask me if it is important for any of you to keep going even in difficulty?
I would tell you, “Absolutely, yes!”
Why is it so difficult to care for our bodies? I’m not talking personal masseuse and daily pedicures… I’m talking balanced meals, water, sleep and exercise. Healthy prayer life, good friends. Simple ingredients.
Unless I’m shopping for them. Then they seem like rare finds that cost more than double the “get by” store brand.
We skate by with minimums until something goes wrong and we are facing a broken part or disconnect. Then we use some string and chewing gum to hold ourselves together…cover it with concealer… and carry on as if nothing is different.
But there is a problem to this method…a couple actually (Even if you aren’t a concealer user).
- We love God.
- We trust God (or are trying our best to)
- We believe what He says (oh yes… I am going there)
- We know what He says is true of others.
- Everything we do is either glorifying Him or not. (Oh, snap. Sorry sister, believe me it hurts me too)
Everything I do is an act of worship. How can I talk about the love of God and praise Him with all my heart, mind, body and soul… if I am also neglecting a part of creation that He literally was tortured for?
Worth.
Value.
Intent.
Purpose.
You can’t do both. You can’t praise His good name–all of it– and condemn His creation.
Can’t speak truth into others but leave yourself out.
Can’t change the words of the Bible to say:
” For most of creation is fearfully and wonderfully made.”
We either accept the whole Bible, or we don’t.
I am stuck this week. Stuck between old habits and listening to the whispered lies of the enemy–and asking the Holy Spirit for the truth and strength to raise my shield.
Stuck between word vows and old paths of hiding, and the strength to be crippled by the healing but still cry out for help.
To know that by the world’s standards I have received more than enough help to figure it out, but am still trying to comprehend. I feel like I may never understand enough to get it.
And I want to push it all down and put on a self-made bravado and push through. Just hold-it-in and don’t be weak.
But The Lord asked me to be a window. Even when I don’t share it, I know it would be restrictive to my freedom to board up the window because the sunlight reveals things I would rather not see.
So I draw the curtains but leave the window. I am feeling shame. For so many things. Shame for being stuck, for having muddy feet, for not being further…or being inspiring.
But He asks me again if I am still willing to grow–to serve.
I am.
So I give Him the curtains, and let Him decide if mud will ruin His reputation for cleansing.
But it doesn’t. The mud I’ve walked through shows where I’ve been. But each time I encounter Him, I am cleansed.
You can’t see any mud where I stand with Him.
(Oh daughter, don’t you see? There isn’t nearly enough mud on you to outlast my grace. What shame?)
And I look. Where the muddy footprints of my striving end there is nothing. I can argue all I want but the truth is–
It’s already done.
To dwell on the mud that’s been cleaned and erased would be pointless. He’s taken care of it before I could even take off my shoes.
We cannot love our neighbors without loving ourselves.
I have circled here before, but just as before…the mud will be washed clean.
Shame has no place when there is nothing to condemn.
Grace allows me to walk unhindered.
Love it and love you!