in the trenches

It’s amazing how a relatively chill thing can implode with a single, seemingly insignificant trigger. After tossing and turning in bed for almost an hour, I find myself here – munching on saltines, in the quite of my apartment, trying to figure out how I got here.

 I’m angry – but why? Anger is rarely a primary emotion. I’m hurt – but by what? and why such a strong reaction to something so ordinary? I’d like to let it go, but every time it comes back around my defenses go right back up. I see the toll – I feel it. It’s heavy and cold – the kind of weight that makes you not want to come around anymore. I can blame, point fingers, and list off a million things that contributed to this wedge – but I’m responsible, too. I’ve wounded and broken, too. And while everything in me wants to scream out, “BUT”, none of the protesting will fix anything at all.

 I want peace, but I’ve been unwilling to lay down my arms. I want to love, but I’ve let resentment take root in the soil of unmet expectations. I want to forgive, but I’ve clung stubbornly to my pride and self-righteousness. All the good that I want to do I don’t – while what I don’t want to do, I do. I know I’m not alone in that.

 That Jesus might open my eyes to how much I’ve been forgiven – that He might open my eyes to see as He sees. That He might soften my heart and teach me to receive His grace and mercy. That it might overflow into my relationships. That He might draw me closer and closer to Himself, that I might hear and heed His whisper to come to Him, and to lay these burdens at His feet. To take on His yoke – for it is easy and light. To trust that His commands are for my good and His glory, and that His grace is sufficient for my every need, for His power is made perfect in my weakness.  That restoration and healing would happen in this place – so that everyone may know that our God alone restores and reestablishes that which has been broken.

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