It’s 5am, and I need to speak some truth into my soul. I always need truth – and so often I’ll force myself to see it before I’ll will myself to open my eyes. I type this now, reclined in a chair, keyboard in my lap, staring at the sky, not the screen. Did you know, I often type that way? With eyes closed or face away from the computer? Because the eyes are searching for the words and they can’t be found in the hum and glare of technology.
I write a Facebook message to a dear friend and it sounds more like a whiny rant than a ‘Hey, how’s your day?”. I’m overwhelmed. Life seems heavy. At 3am I can’t sleep. I sneeze a thousand times (when will it stop?) and my eyes burn from allergies. The to-do list is a mile long and the homeschool year is ahead of me, so soon – so soon.
Some little critter scratches on the inside of the wall – deafening in the early morning silence.
All the self-doubt creeps in. Why am I doing this? I’m not equipped. It’s too much, too big. Surely, someone else could do this better. “This” is everything.
This week it hit me like a ton of bricks that I’m now solely responsible for a beautiful little organization’s existence in Canada. For their life line to support and financial partnership and growth. Me. Me. It all sounded so exciting until I realized it was real. Until I was building a new website for hours every night and realized the responsibility God has given me. Yes, a family in Uganda relies on me to pull through, to make things happen – to help feed their orphan children. Tears sting when they are hot. I look at the path ahead of me and I’m looking at a steep hill.
A blank yearly planner sits on the hutch and I’m almost too overwhelmed to even start filling it in. A whole year ahead of us – homeschooling a 2nd and 1st grader and a Junior Kindergartner. For those who call homeschooling Moms “amazing”, we’re not. We feel inadequate most the time. We just feel called to something alternative to the norm. And believe me, it’s an uphill battle with culture, but it is so, so worth it.
A family member sends me a message asking why I’m hard on myself. Why the “Christian” walk seems to have butchered my self-esteem. I tear up and look deep within. Is this the portrayal I give?
I have self-esteem, surely, I do. But I also realize daily how much I need a Savior. Like this morning, sitting here searching the ceiling for words to describe how I feel. And when I dig deep enough it all comes down to “where does my strength come from?”
I take my days on earth very seriously, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m serious all the time. We are given one life… and called to live it well. I seek eagerly, EAGERLY to live it well. Not because there is a checklist to be filled, but because I want to live purposefully and intentionally.
So, yes, sometimes I’m faced with lies of “you’re not enough” and “you can’t”. Sometimes I long desperately to tune out. To not care anymore. To live an oblivious life. To live selfishly and ignore my children rather than engaging with them every hour of every day. To get cable and watch mindless TV every night instead of staying up until 1am to work on websites and promotional material and homeschooling plans. To not rock babies on Sunday mornings. To forget about praying for the people who need it. To forget about surrender. Because surrender, can be tough. Yes, I struggle, just like everyone else.
But the difference is where I find hope. The difference is where this hope leads me.
My hope comes from You, Lord,
maker of heaven and earth.
And yes, it’s that narrow path, but it leads to the promised land. It leads to Him. And the homeschooling, and the family, and the friends in Uganda – they’re not really in MY hands, they’re in God’s. God is in control. That’s why surrender is so powerful. It’s takes the burden off us and places it on Him. He says it right to us –
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 30:28-30
The tears stream down now, freedom. His word, alive and speaking right to the inner parts of me. Always speaking, always calming. Always there. He reveals it to me as I stare at the back of dark eyelids.
Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. The line comes into my head out of nowhere. Yes… burning eyes closed, I drink it in. I meditate on the Lord I know is so real, so here. I have access to a cool, refreshing water, flowing free and clear. When self-doubt and overwhelm sneak in, I can come and pump life right into my very soul. But sometimes the pumping takes hard work. But oh, it is worth it. Because then comes the freedom.
You’re not good enough becomes,
“I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength”.
You are weak becomes,
“In my own weakness He is made strong”.
Give up becomes,
“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus”.
And beyond the heaviness there is a weightlessness that can be found. A hope-filled future where, yes, the days are challenging, but they are full of joy and peace.
“Christianity is the gospel of the failed, of the ungodly, the unable, the unwilling, who simply woke up one day invited to God’s house and went. Period.” John Lynch
Good Morning Girls
Women Living Well