Wow, 2019 has been so hard! So hard but also pretty good. I’ve really been struggling with feeling alone, unknown, and unseen. I don’t even know if that makes sense, but it’s how I feel.
I feel alone—most all of my friends have left/drifted away in this season of my life, and I feel like this week some of my family understands me less and mocks me more (with the notable exception of a couple of people). I feel unknown—like very few really know who I am—what I like, what I hate, what makes me tick, what I’m talking about. I feel unseen—like I can walk into church and minister to people but no one has any idea what I’m going through and no one bothers to try to get to know me, like I’m taken for granted and even rolled eyes at, like the relationship I have with God can’t be understood and like no one listens.
I know feelings lie. I know that. But in each feeling, there is a basis of truth. There are instances and circumstances and people I can point fingers at and say, “See? They left me. They ignored me. They assumed things about me without getting to know me. Or worse, they assumed things about me even after they got to know me.” And that hurts.
It’s as if I told God I’d give Him everything and follow Him (which I did) but now that I’ve followed Him, when I look around, I don’t know where I am. I feel so lost. Like I’m in the middle of a dry place all by myself. No rest, no relief, no company. Like God, I told You that You could have it all, and that’s what You took. And that’s not my issue. My issue is, where does that leave me? What do I do now? Where am I? Where do I go? Do I go at all? Or do I stay?
I don’t want this to discourage you from following God for yourself. Don’t think that it doesn’t work and that it ends in hopelessness, because it doesn’t. This is not the end. This is not where it ends for me. This all has to be said because I am committed to honesty, and when God comes through for me, you’ll need to know that it hasn’t been easy. This all has to be said so that you can see it’s a process. This blogging life, this writing life, this speaking life, this ministering life, this living life—it’s the furthest thing from easy. It’s the furthest thing from polished and social media and internet beauty. I could perhaps, if I were someone else, edit this part out. I could edit out how hard this is and just tell an aesthetic story of following God. But I’m me. And me is honest and real and perhaps too open with her struggles, because she’s seen the suffocating power of silence.
And I don’t want to be silent. Not to you. You need to know that this is rough yet this is possible. This is worthwhile; I would not trade this life for my former life. I wouldn’t trade who I’m becoming for who I was, no matter how much you tried to tell me it’s easier or less heartbreaking. Nope. No way.
This process of letting go, of giving God everything that’s in His way? So terrifying. So exhilarating. So shaky. So safe.
I saw a sweet friend of mine this week that I haven’t seen for a month or two, and she asked me how I was doing. I told her I was overwhelmed with processing everything that’s been going on, all the life that’s been happening and everything God’s been telling me. She responded by telling me to take it “piece by piece”, yet what my spirit heard in that moment was to take it “peace by peace”—to go where the Peace is. To not outrun the extent of the Peace. To not venture where Peace isn’t. To wait for the fresh and renewed Peace to come before taking the next step. To take it one Peace at a time. Make it simple. Uncomplicated. To go with Peace.
It’s so hard when I run ahead into a vision God showed me before He’s ready to make it happen, because Peace isn’t there yet. It’s not the opportune time. Timing. It’s a funny thing, that. Timing. God has really been having me on this journey of timing this month. Of learning to wait in His presence and not act out of my emotions or hopes or dreams or wishes or expectations. To wait and walk at the pace of Peace. God is a God of order and His timing is perfect. Timing. Learning to walk and run and dance and cry to the beat of His heart. Learning to laugh and love and speak and be silent according to the beat of His heart. It’s not being a puppet in a show; it’s being a partner in a waltz. To be a puppet, the presence of the Master need not be apparent in your life, but to be a partner? You move when He moves. You may spin but it’s while holding His hand. You may dip but it’s in His arms. His presence is both obvious to those watching and in tandem with where you’re traveling across the floor.
So I’m learning to take things peace by peace. Not at the tempo of my temptations to be discouraged or even at the beat of my breakthroughs, but in the place of His presence. For that’s where I want to be. That’s where I want to look around and find myself at. And that’s what I want to be—a place for His presence.
These songs put the cry of my heart to music, so I thought I’d include them:
“Open Space” by Housesfires
“Touch of Heaven” by Hillsong Worship (this is the version sung by Bethel music)
“Closer” Bethel Music
I saw some of you in person this past week, and seeing your beautiful faces and hearing you say that you keep up with everything I post is so encouraging to me! So often I feel like I’m just writing and putting content out there, just as if I was writing in a journal, but with a little more feedback. And most of my friends don’t follow my blog–there’s significantly more people following me on here that I don’t know than ones I do. Anyway, sometimes it’s easy for even this to feel lonely, but audibly hearing you say you’re here and you’re reading and you care was so personal to me. Thank you.
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