Marathon

Sometimes I forget that You're doing something in me. Sometimes I want what I want right now, and the idea of waiting and working and changing and growing becomes exhausting and heavy and overwhelming. Sometimes I feel like screaming and raging at You and throwing a full.fledged.temper.tantrum, and sometimes I feel like sobbing, and sometimes I just sit still with You, asking you to help me be better... asking You to give me more time.

I'm a mess.

I make a thousand professions of confidence and belief and peace. When a scenario plays out differently from what I want, in comes the You NEVER do what I want! comments, so indicative of the mind of a child. I am a child, Your child.

Truth is, I feel so sad. It's the strangest thing to be both overwhelmingly sad, and joyful at the same time. It's bizarre to ache for what I don't have next to me, while grateful for the opportunity to grow and expand my relationship with You. Will I ever stop being such a contradiction in terms and desires? How can I want Your will and my own? How can I live like my will must be Yours, or you don't "love me"? What kind of screwed up notion of love is that? Do I love my children that way? Or my husband? Or my friends?

Why do I demand that your plans be mine, as if I know what's best?

The mind of an immature child...

The truth is, You know I've been sitting here wallowing. The truth is, You know I've also been whispering that I will trust in Your reasons. Does trusting mean, no emotion? Because I feel grief. What a joy it is that You've given me someone whose absence causes my heart so much grief! How blessed I am. You give, You take away. Job's words, that have permeated throughout my heart over the years. You've given me life, You will take it away. You've given me Love. You've given me more than I can actually comprehend, deeper than I can understand. You've walked me through the depths of solitude, challenged me with abandonment, shown me the darkest pits of suffering, where there aren't words to define. You've built a heart in me able to withstand, and overcome, and Love. You've given me a heart that has to Love. It has no other option. It kills me sometimes, Beloved. It hurts like hell to love like this.

So, I'm not alone, but yet alone at the same time. It's strange, isn't it? And all praise to You for Your plan. I never would have envisioned a more perfect plan. I never could have fathomed a life like this!

This one has been tough, Father. In some ways I don't want it to end, but in so many more I'm counting down a celebratory cheer to its end. This year of basic training has broken me, rebuilt me, changed me. I am not the same. I'm thankful for that.

As it nears its end, I wonder what's next. Where will we go from here? What will the road look like? Nevermind. I don't want to know. If I focus too far ahead of myself, I lose sight of what's right in front of me. One of the lessons you've been challenging me on... living for today. Letting go of what's behind, stopping trying to brace for/prepare for/anticipate for what's to come... living for the now. Loving in the now. Recognizing that I have no control over what's about to happen. It's in Your hands. What glorious Hands they are!

I feel joy here, Father, in this place. Joy and sorrow. Comfort and solitude. Loneliness and love. I miss my companion. It hurts.

Thank You for sitting with me while I wallow. And not pointing out what could or should or would be different. Thank You for the freedom to hurt, while also knowing that Your picture is better than mine. Thank You for not mandating how my heart handles things. Thank You for giving me the space and love to be who I am. A mess.

My eyes are on the Prize. I'm running the Marathon to finish it. Mind over body. One footfall after the next. I'm not stopping.