For the Days We Feel Weak and Incomplete
It’s 10:24 pm on Tuesday night, and I’m not sure what I need to say, but I know I might not be able to sleep tonight if I don’t say something–
About how sickness and exhaustion have recently brought me right up to the edge of the end of my calm, and how I’ve seen up close and personal my capacity to be impatient and short on grace for those I love most.
About how one adorable strong-willed 3-year-old can bring me maybe even across said edge of my end and leave me utterly depleted at the end of a day.
About how the reality, the struggles of living in this neighborhood with these people have crept right up under my skin so much more than usual lately and invaded my heart and my home. And how instead of rejoicing over these opportunities to share in God’s heart, I have objected and kicked and screamed inside in the midst of my giving.
About how my flesh has cried so much louder for comfort lately. How if I’m honest with myself, I so often want comfort more than I want to really just know Him more, to encounter Him in the uncomfortable.
And how what it all boils down to is that God has been making me so acutely aware in these days of my nothingness apart from Him. How it takes Him even to desire Him and any tiny ounce of umph inside me still crying “Father, I need you” is only because of how He draws my heart in spite of my flesh’s cries for rest and blissful ignorance.
How I am small and I am weak and I’m learning, despite my kicking and screaming, to see my weak, small, comfort-craving self in the light of His tender affection.
And I’m growing more okay with my new view. Not in a comfortable I’m okay with where I am and I don’t want to grow or move forward kind of way–but in an I’m learning to embrace WHO I am as I find myself seen and known by Him kind of way.
Because it’s not that He accepts my sin, but that He accepts me even as I’m aware of my sin. He embraces me in my weak places and it’s only when I receive His affection in my brokenness that I begin to be made whole.
Where I fail to extend compassion, He is unceasingly compassionate to me.
Where I fail to offer grace, His grace covers my sin.
Where I fail to be patient, His patience for me runs deeper than my failure.
And in the face of my straight up not wanting to love well, His affectionate pursuit is tender and fierce.
I am weak.
And He fully sees, fully embraces, fully loves.
And while these external struggles aren’t all resolved and okay, on the inside, I’m learning to trust deeper. Just to breathe my way into this day because He’s so intimately all around me and I need Him more than oxygen and I trust, from one moment, to the next, to the next, He’ll keep being enough for my heart if I’ll lean into Him. That He’ll keep giving me all I need to love well. To say yes to knowing Him above seeking my own comfort.
At my core, I really do want Him more, y’all.
And it feels so raw, laying my guts before you all in all their incompleteness. But here I am, learning to find myself known, seen, and embraced in my failure and sin, learning to be unashamed of my smallness and my need, sharing the reality of my right now with you all in hopes that you’ll bring your own small, weak places into His presence today too.
That together we can learn to be seen, known, embraced by Him in those places.
To begin to trust His heart, to respond to His affection, to be made whole.
**Joining Barbie for her Weekend Brew linkup.**
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