When I started writing (in such a public manner anyway), I was doing it because I had so many thoughts and emotions and the only way that I could get them unjumbled and wrestle with God over them was to literally get them out of my head by putting them on paper. I never could have imagined that three years later I would still have things to process that conversation wouldn’t even touch the surface of. There have been countless journal entries that started as the result of a pure temper tantrum of adult emotions thrown at God. Tears, anger, frustration, you name it, I’ve thrown it at Him. Thankfully He is big and mighty - He can take it. He wants it. What a thought, right? He WANTS me to come to Him with ALL of it.
I’m struggling. Not with grief over George Mason (though that’s always a part of things). Not even with the sleep-less nights of 7 week old baby/mama relationships. I’m struggling with not having my people.
When we first left the comfort of the southeast and jumped in our cars to move to Utah, it was, in our minds anyway, temporary. We would only be here for a few years and then back to the east coast we would go. And to sweeten the deal, my parents would be close; so at least we weren’t moving to a complete unknown with none of our people - 9 weeks pregnant with our first baby. Well, 2 years, and then 3 years, and now almost 6 have gone by and here we are… still in Utah. And if I’m being completely honest, that’s something I ask God about daily. {I know so many of y’all are shocked}
I know that our experiences since we’ve been here haven’t exactly helped me frame a good mindset in and with this place. My head knows that and I remind myself of it constantly. And then I remind myself that God didn’t place us here as a punishment. He brought us here so that we could bloom. So that we could do His work - in whatever form that would take/is taking - in this place. I KNOW it wasn’t an accident that we are here. And yet… well, its hard.
When I look back, there has always been a reason. Hindsight is wonderful in that respect. It makes me feel foolish for the tantrums I throw when I’m in the height of grief. But even those tantrums have brought me closer to God, and allowed me to feel and understand His grace and comfort even more deeply. So I know that when all of this is behind us, and our people our surrounding our dinner table, or filling our backyard, or piled around the kitchen island, I know that there will have been something I learned; something that drew me closer to God. Something that strengthened my relationship with him. I know that. So why am I so dang pissed off/frustrated/sad about this isolation? Because virtual anything can only go so far. And when community is the one draw that you keep clinging to in a place you have begged to be taken out of, and then its suddenly taken away… well, its hard for me not to struggle.
I want to hug my people. I want to watch them snuggle my baby. I want to love on their kids and watch Audrey with her friends. I want to throw the biggest of parties and celebrate life and health; particularly the health of this precious baby boy that’s keeping me up at night. I want the community that has loved on and supported our family through all of the rough things that we’ve experienced in Utah. I want my people. And their people. And their people’s people.
As I sit here and type out all of my frustrations, some that just sort of bubbled up through my fingers, I’m thankful for this space. I’m also feeling a little whiney. And I’m thankful for a God who has grace upon grace for my whining; because as a parent I know how irritating whining is. So I’m going to park my butt in the psalms and praise the God who has sustained me through two of the hardest things I could have ever imagined and has continually brought me back to life when I felt overwhelmed by the emotions that come as a result of this broken world. I’m going to thank Him endlessly for Harry Beau and the joy that he has brought to our family. I’m going to praise Him for giving me the honor of being Audrey Nole’s mama. And I’m going to plead for the day that I can hug all my people to come quickly.
"But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? Jeremiah 17:7-9
Lord Jesus, let me be the tree planted by the water. And let not my heart be trusted… but let me always trust You.
