It’s been a long time.
I’ve been quiet here for a couple of years now. There have been too many things to say and yet so little ability to articulate those experiences and thoughts, so I froze.
Grief, trauma and broken relationships have a way of stealing a person’s voice – hiding them under a heavy cloak of fear, disillusionment and shame.
And then there is the exhaustion that comes and overtakes and sucks up every last ounce of your resources. Your brain and body kick into conservation mode, desperate to reserve enough energy to make it through the day.
My own story is so intertwined with others’ stories that it feels nearly impossible to figure out how to talk about what is going on inside of me and in my life without revealing too much of someone else’s story.
But I’ll try.
The hard truth is that we – my family and I -are not ok. We haven’t been ok for quite some time now. It feels uncomfortable to just leave that sitting there…but that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Opening up this page again to start writing is me choosing brave and burying the shame and fear that would like to keep me silent.
I know that I’m not alone. There are more of you out there who are not ok and there is no light at the end of the tunnel in view to run toward.
It’s ok to admit that.
It’s important to admit that.
The fixer in me desperately wants to rush toward the bow tie of this post – to come up with some silver lining to cling to. I’m not denying that the potential for that is here, but I’m saying maybe that’s not what is needed right now.
It has been said of grief, of writing and of art,
“It takes as long as it takes.”
Does anyone else feel a surge of irritation at those words?
Does anyone else also feel a deep and pulsing calm?
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Drop your shoulders.
“It takes as long as it takes.”
We create these timelines in our minds; goals, expectations and hope are all pinned to that progressive, horizontal line.
But then life comes and sends us spiralling off that line and into some other reality that we have not considered. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of way to measure progress over here.
I used to think that the word faithfulness described an outcome, with positive data and results that I could meaure and analyze and replicate.
I think now that faithfulness describes a state of being. It involves someone practising deep presence and abiding fully in the harsh, delightful, mundane realities of life. It is less about something you do, and more about who you are.
The strength of faithfulness is in our understanding of our identity. Faithfulness is born out of a knowledge that we are deeply, unconditionally loved by God.
It’s almost impossible to measure.
When conducting a science experiment, it’s important to make sure that only a singular variable exists within the experiment. Every component must be identical except for the one that you are planning to change. In this way, we are able to determine whether the impacts observed are truly results of the one component that has shifted.
Our lives as Believers can be explained in similiar language. When we are born again into a saving faith, there is only One component that truly shifts. But suddenly, our identity has changed. With the covering of our sins by the completed work of Jesus, we become heirs to an entirely new existence and reality. We are set free.
However, our physical reality here on earth remains the same. We still exist in a very physical, broken and sin filled world. We still live within the parameters of our own humanity and others’ sinful choices. Every day we wade through the mess of a world that is tainted and decomposing around us. We live inside of human bodies that betray us, constrict us and limit us.
Sanctification is the process in which Jesus takes our surrendered hearts and changes them from one degree of glory to the next. It is the proccess of our minds and hearts being renewed day by day. It is the gradual, patient work of healing and forming new rhythms and choosing gratitude. It includes the physical neurological work of rewiring our brains by the slow, intentional shifting of our daily choices.
When Jesus saves us, He doesn’t save us from the world and all it’s difficulties, but instead promises that our reality within that world is going to change.
We will be changed.
Faithfulness, the way our Father describes it, is simply relationship. It is acknowledging that now we exist within the reality of Emmanuel – God with us. In the middle of our same broken, flawed, sin tainted reality we suddenly have a new Presence and Light. Choosing to cast our weary selves upon that Presence is where faithfulness is found and where the glory of God is revealed to us and others.
Advent came and went a few months ago, and there doesn’t seem to be a break in sight.
No break in the pressing daily realities of parenting my children,
No break in the seemingly steady waves of grief and loss that continue to wash up on our shores,
No break in the hard work of fighting for healing and justice and services,
No break in the layers of trauma that need to be stripped away so that those I love most can experience love and joy.
But Emmanuel – God with us – brings Peace.
Knowing that I am not alone and that He is all about changing me from the inside out helps me fix my eyes on Him instead of our circumstances.
This thing I’m wrestling to the ground might never change.
But I will change – He will make sure of that.
This hard might never get easier.
But I will see it differently – He has promised growth and vitality.
This might be only the beginnning of a very hard, long season.
But I will be granted endurance for one day at a time to trudge through it.
“As we consider our family’s story, our hope is not in a happily ever after, but in knowing the Author.” -Jamie Finn
-AF
Adoption, Mommyhood & the Rest 