Heavy

My heart is heavy.

It's heavy when I look around and see so much broken. And maybe it's always been there, but I was too numb to care. To feel the gravity of it.

And it's heavy when my heart struggles to find a reason to beat. When it feels like the the ground beneath my feet is sinking sand. And I struggle to stand.

I want to be able to just hold up my hands like Moses, a simple gesture that ensures I win the battle. That when I feel overwhelmed, I can just raise my arms to get the advantage. The answer always seems so simple, so trivial. Just pray more. Be joyful. Don't give up. Lift your hands.

But pain is never simple.

Do I have a legitimate reason to feel this way? Maybe not. I get stuck in the cycle of comparison. Who am I to claim brokenness when I'm healthy, when everything is going relatively okay? There are so many people out there who are going through really hard, really heavy things. You don't have a reason to feel this way. How can you admit you're broken, but not have a good explanation for why? How can you take up someone's time and heart when there are so many who need it more? Why can't I just figure it out on my own?

& that's the reality. Sometimes I'm broken. And I don't know what to do with that. Sometimes it feels like everything is crashing down at once, and I'm not sure how to find the way out.

I get mad at the enemy for attacking my confidence. And I get mad at myself for letting him. For dropping my sword and sitting down.

I don't have a pretty wrap up for this post. I don't have a resolve, because sometimes we're in a place that isn't wrapped up in a nice package with a bow. It just is what it is... but what I do know...

What I do know is that God has never left me before. On the other side, I have seen that He was there the whole time. I can see the moments when He showed up, that I was too distracted to see... And if I have nothing else to hold onto, I'll hold onto that....

The Month of Yes

I had no idea coming into June what the month would bring. The last day of May I felt so deeply in me that I should go to my church and pray over the weekend. The next day, June 1, somewhat... well very begrudgingly, I said "yes" and my friend and I went to the church. After mindlessly wandering the grounds and avoiding praying, I looked at her and asked, "Can I start?"

I spread my arms and I started praying, feeling a power from within me that I'm not sure I've ever felt before. Something shifted that night.

That weekend, my pastor said something that stuck with me. "If  you don't say yes to God, He'll step over you and find someone who is willing."

I don't want to stand in the way of what God is doing. I don't want to be the roadblock that needs to be avoided to get to someone who is willing. I want to grab the baton and run the race that I was created to run. (Figuratively... please don't make me run for real...) So, I decided to say yes.

Shonda Rhimes once spent a year saying yes to everything that was hard... I haven't actually read her book, but she has a Ted Talks about it that I love. (seriously, so good- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmj-azFbpkA) Shonda was living a dream life and then she lost what she refers to as "the hum" that kept her going. She poses the question, "If the song of my heart refuses to play, can I survive in the silence?" She goes through this journey of always saying 'yes' when her kids ask to play and slowly, that hum returns.

The point being, I remembered this video and then I remembered June 1. Friday night. And I remembered the weekend, Heather's sermon about saying yes to what He's asking of you... and how we have no idea what our yes can do.

You see, for months up to this point, I'd been super empty inside. I didn't feel anything. And not just numb as I've known most of my life. I didn't feel passion for anything. I didn't enjoy doing the things I used to love. I went through the motions and I pretended to care. But I didn't. Not about anything.

But that yes.

That yes sent a spark through my body. And I started thinking... what if I spent the whole month intentionally saying "yes" to everything God asked of me?

And yes, I know, shouldn't I have already been doing that? Shouldn't that just be what is expected?

Yes. But I didn't. I think the majority of us... we get those promptings, "Go, pray with this person." "Pay for their meal." "Reach out to this person." "Spend time with Me." and we just assume we're going crazy, or we just think our minds are coming up with those things on their own. (which is dumb, why would my mind ever think I should talk to someone?)

So, for the month of June, I decided I would explore every thought that may be from God and always say yes.

I had no idea what that would mean.

I had no idea what June would bring.

I was totally gung-ho on everything I anticipated about the month. Get out of my comfort zone and talk to people? I can do that. Be intentional about praying for and with people? Check. Do nice things for people? Well, obviously... I'm gonna do all these great things, blog about it at the end. It'll be beautiful...

Wait... you want me to take care of myself? Um.... No. But... Well... no.

But like... What do you mean I should actually take care of my own heart first? 

No.

No. No. No.

Yes, God, I know I said I'd say yes. I know I did. But... you know that's not what I do. You know I can't do that.

I know I committed to the month of yes... I know. But can't you just like... aren't there more productive things I could do with my time?

Here's the honest truth.

I shut down. My stubborn heart screamed "NO"... No, I can't do this. There is too much going on, too many hard things, I cannot handle dealing with life right now.... maybe we could revisit it when life calms down.

There were some really iffy days in there.... There were a lot of "lets just go through the motions and stay too busy to focus on anything else" days... And there were a few "just curl up and hope I don't wake up" days.

But buried between those days were a couple moments when I was too weak and too defeated to do anything but squeak out the faintest "yes" I could muster. Moments when I didn't know what else to do but remember....

June 1. Friday Night.

That spark.

That first yes.

Guys, I'm really scared. I'm scared of my heart. I'm scared of what's in me. Or what isn't. I don't want to fail... But I'm also not sure I want to succeed.

I don't like unknowns. I'm a thorough person, I need redundancy. I need back ups to my back up. I don't worry about what ifs, because all my what ifs are covered... It makes me great at some things...

But horrible at others...

I can plan to build a boat or a bridge, or maybe if that doesn't work I can just take a plane or hot air balloon across the river. But to just walk to the river and stick my toes in, trusting God is going to do something? Ha.

To just lay all my broken pieces at God's feet with no idea how that will play out?.. not my forte.

But... I remember how alive I felt that first night. And something in me knows that He can be trusted.

It might have taken most of the month for me to mutter an embarrassingly weak "yes." One that I'll be honest, I haven't had time to see play out yet.

But that tiny yes.

Yes, You can see my heart.

Yes, You can do what You want with it.

Yes... Okay, yes. 

For most of June, my loud yes was to embracing numbness. To forgetting. To ignoring.

And I was miserable.

But that tiny yes.

It made my heart start beating again.

It brought peace.

It amplified my voice to a stronger string of yeses.

Yeses that at the moment, I have no idea what they mean. But I'm not going to let myself assume what they will look like.

So my month of yes? Well, it was more a month of "well... no... I mean... um... I guess..."

Do I feel like I failed? A little.

But I also feel that God was preparing me from the beginning to bring me to a spot where I could learn how to amplify my yes. To bring me to a place where this month would not take me out, but strengthen me to fight battles I was otherwise unprepared to handle.

I'm not quitting now that June is over. I know I won't always make the right decision, but I also know the power of God in me. It scares me. It terrifies me. But the only thing that feels stable right now is that He is good. He is faithful. He doesn't forget His promises. And I only have a limited number of yeses to give. Instead of throwing them at whatever I think may or may not keep me afloat, I'll give them to the One who I know isn't going to let me sink.

So...

Yeah? (we're still working on it. :))

To Be Seen

In second grade I noticed my teacher giving extra attention to another student who hadn’t quite grasped the basic addition on the last assignment. My young brain processed it in one thought, “you get extra attention when you fail.” At the age of 7 I had yet to fail in school, so maybe it was time I tried it out.

I devised a brilliant scheme. Not only would I get all the answers wrong, I had the whole process figured out. I would simply use the number line wrong, leaving all my answers one number off. When the teacher passed back the assignments, I was nervous and slightly giddy. She set the paper on my desk, and moved on without a word. The red pen stared at me from the paper, and I waited for her to move onto a new assignment and come help me see what I did wrong.

Nothing happened. I never heard a word about that assignment.

I couldn’t understand. I didn’t get the attention when I did well, and I didn’t get it when I failed.

I just wanted to be seen.

I don’t know when I stopped trying, when little me decided that I was better off staying hidden; when I convinced even myself that I wasn’t worth anyone’s time... When I believed that so many other people needed more, that I could just take care of myself. That God had others to worry about, and somehow He didn’t have enough to go around.

And somehow I convinced myself that I didn’t actually want to be seen.

Remember how Zacchaeus climbed up a tree just for a glimpse of Jesus? I imagine that he wanted to be able to see Jesus, but wasn’t so interested in being seen. I mean, he’s in a freaking tree... We had a tree on our property when I was a teenager that I used to spend hours in because I knew I wouldn’t be found there. No one climbs into a tree with the hope of being seen.

I feel a lot like how I imagine Zacchaeus must have felt. I want to see what’s happening, I want to feel like I’m a part of it, but I also want to keep the moment at arm’s length. But then… there’s this tiny part of me… this tiny part of Zacchaeus. This tiny part that thinks, “maybe… maybe this time… just maybe...” And as Jesus walks by, that nervous, slightly giddy feeling comes out.

And then.

The sound of the deafening crowd fades to deafening silence.

Everything slows down as Jesus starts looking up… the crowd blurs and in an instant, in a moment Zacchaeus didn’t even let himself imagine, Jesus’ eyes lock with his. “Come,” Jesus says, “let me in.” (I mean, more or less)

Can you imagine?

I can.

Because He didn’t just see Zacchaeus.

He saw me.

He saw me when I didn’t want to be seen.

He saw that little girl craving someone’s attention. He saw the teenager, hiding in the branches of the pine tree. He saw the woman, pretending she was better off alone. He was trying to lock eyes with her from the very beginning, and all she had to do was turn her head.

I had a word pop in my head a few weeks ago that I wrote down, thinking it was my theme for 2018. It was admirable, really. A big strong word, a courageous word even.

Then those eyes locked with mine again, and the voice that brings me to my knees spoke.

“Let yourself be seen.”

And honestly, it was in the middle of writing this that I hear the voice again.

“This year, let yourself be seen.”

Yeah, sure, let myself be seen, I know. Super easy.

“Let yourself be seen when you’re weak.”

Yeah, totally, I’m totally gonna do just that.

Guys, my sarcasm doesn’t faze Him. The guy is relentless.

“Stop trying to be brave and courageous, stop pretending to be strong. Be seen. Be seen and freedom will follow.”

So.

Here I am.

Here I am, that little girl inside still fighting to be seen, while that teenager insists that I’m setting myself up for disappointment.

Here I am, not sure I even see myself enough to let anyone else see.

Here I am… not willing to give up on the “more” God has, not willing to let the last couple years of fighting for freedom go to waste.

For better or worse, here I am. Choosing to be seen.