Friday, January 13, 2012

One Hundred Thirty-Seven Days

It's almost unimaginable that our family has been in "this place" for 137 days.  We packed up a decade of memories, two decades of ministry, and trekked across six states in a U-haul to move in with parents.


Our current situation isn't pretty.  Our past 20 years together isn't exactly pretty as a whole, and in all honesty, most of the 40 years of my existence hasn't been pretty, either.  I've been trying to write, but the story is tangled up in my soul right now, and the words are not finding their voice on the page.  My thoughts swirl in uncertainty.  What to share?  What not to share?  When the words come, the story will not be for those who have it all together.  It's not for the slick and polished, successful and seemingly unbroken.  The story will be told for those battered and drained by life.  The true ragamuffins. Those emptied, broken, stretched, and bruised.  The sinners who have plummeted to the depths of financial brokenness, relational failures, emotional anguish, abuse, purposelessness, betrayal, death, addiction, depression, rejection, and loss.    


These past 137 days have brought clarity to the past two decades in a way I didn't expect.  Wounds that sprinkled and drenched the past years have been boiling to the surface, demanding to be processed, screaming to be healed, and longing for closure.  When the wounds were inflicted, we did the only thing we could.  BY FAITH, we strapped the burdens onto our backs and lugged forward.  BY FAITH, we now pause to heal.......  FINALLY......  It's time to heal. 


I want to clarify that we are NOT victims.  We do not, and NEVER HAVE behaved with a victim mentality.  Sometimes, ugly and hard things happen.  We are not victims, but there IS a story to tell.  We have and will continue to own our own brokenness.  


HONESTY  OWNS.  

GRACE  REIGNS.  

ALWAYS.


Life's mess found in the raw deep can be heavy, confusing, and fragile at best.  When we left Michigan, I didn't expect that this time of rest would be painful.  I didn't expect this torrent of emotions.  Even so, 137 days in, I can confirm that healing is indeed happening.  God is faithfully filling our void, and slowly healing our wounds.  


FAITHFUL.   

HE IS FAITHFUL.


I KNOW and UNDERSTAND that we are BLESSED.  God has been with us, and has sweetly reminded us that we are not alone.  We have four amazing, healthy children.  We have deep and real love.  My parents have been gracious and giving, and have provided a sweet, safe environment for all of us.  Their gift to us is priceless, and we are GRATEFUL.  However, even in the midst of TREMENDOUS blessings it is possible to be walking a hard road.  It's okay not to be perfectly okay.  It.  Is. Okay. 


IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY IN THE DEEP WHILE THINGS ARE GOOD IN THE NOT-SO-DEEP.


It's a bit of a paradox, but most days, this is where my soul resides.  I hesitated to write this particular blog, because I know it's "heavy."  I don't want to discourage or be a drain, but I feel strongly that I need to explain why I have been quiet in the world of blogging.  I don't know if God will have me continue to be quiet altogether, or if HE will begin to bring voice to the tangle.  HE may even stir my heart to write about something completely unrelated to this portion of our journey.  I have been seeking HIM for direction about my blog, and  it is HIS to do with as HE sees fit.


Right here.  Right now.  This is where we are found along the journey... 137 days into true and deep healing.   



137 days...



"He will give a crown of BEAUTY for ASHES, a joyous BLESSING instead of MOURNING, festive PRAISE instead of DESPAIR."  Isaiah 61:3 


 
For this, we trust.