this is what I chose to have my bracelet say, from The Vintage Pearl
I had to come to the library to type this post. It's quiet, that's good. It's just me in this room and two coat racks. Someone left their black hoodie, and the other hangs a navy ball cap. Who says ball cap? I sound like geriatric.
I hope they come back for them. They look lonely here in the reference section. I want to write about them and what they do when the library closes and the lights are off.
Today Gray begged for pineapple-orange-banana juice at Target, and he asked for it just like that, as if he read it off the carton. I didn't think the pictures on the front were that obvious and maybe he can read now? I've noticed him reading some other things. He just turned five. It's possible.
I poured him a glass when we got home and he told me he loved me, and thank you for buying my Rockstar Juice.
I have been struggling to find The Words... the right words, the ones that don't make me look like a fool. I can find plenty of other words about other things,
sometimes they are just clues my fingers plunk out that my heart hopes my brain just gets.
But I have been wanting to incorporate this huge hurricane that has been going on in my life that I have not been writing about. Basically because I feel like I will sound like I don't know what I'm talking about. SO, as usual, I am just going to write how I feel.
I believe Noah's healing from epilepsy is a miracle. Like, I believe he is a living story to show God's glory. I promise I didn't mean to make that rhyme.
I want to include that a lot when I write about him like I did the other day, or when people write to me asking for help or advice when their child is suffering seizures. It doesn't make sense to me to just say God healed him. I feel I need to give them some more details, like all the things we did in the natural to get him well, like the types of doctors we saw and the diet he was put on.
Because truly, even those things were designed by God. He invented life and an amazing body that can be healed by other things he created, He opened doors every single step of the way, even when we were too weak to ask it of him in prayer. We prayed, but most often it was God help us, we don't know what to do. God, heal Noah. Lord, forgive us for being such big screw ups.
But we'd go to pray and shut our eyes and go to sleep.
Maybe that was Him giving us rest.
But I also don't know how to say all this + everything else in my heart without making it sound like God did that to Noah on purpose. Or how to write about my life and leave God out but I'm not really leaving Him out. I'm just telling you about my day and, like, He's just a given? I feel like everything I say is the wrong thing.
So, I shut up. And I think He does a better job explaining it by my son being healed and walking and talking and doing all sorts of things doctors said he probably wouldn't do. I let him be the miracle and I sit back and am thankful. But the truth is that there is a whole lot going on inside of me right now, not just leftover faith from years ago. And I am a writer but I can not write it. Always fumbling over my not-the-right words.
Why is it so awkward being real?
But I don't know how to say these things without sounding like a fakity faking it. I don't say Praise God every other sentence, it's just not me and I don't know if that's what God would want me to sound like, or if that's what people at church want me to sound like.
But my heart and my breath, it loves Him and praises Him. And I want to be more of a light than I am right now. I feel like I am here if people find me but I am not intentionally shining-out like I should be.
So, I am working on that.
I am still not good at reading my Bible. And in the car I was driving and thinking about all the bloggers I admire and never want to miss a post so I subscribe to their feed in my Google Reader or via email. And I thought what if God had a blog? I would totally subscribe. So what the heck.
Why can I not open up his Word and read even a page?
I am working on this.
I also am tempted to ask outloud- does such a thing exist? Has someone on the Internet given the Bible an RSS feed and how do I find it? Like, something each day about the size of an average blog post? Anyone?
I hunger for His Word and His hand and I act like I don't know where to find it. I am so lazy I am so disabled that even though it's right there for me, I need it an easier way.
I found a church my family loves and suddenly feel un-accepted, like I don't fit in. It's something that has been bothering me a lot lately. This roaring insecurity that I never remember being inside me before. Where did it come from? I feel more than ever that I am not enough and have nothing to give. You know what? I am not enough.
I am broken, I am not good, I am faulty. Jesus is the only perfect one. The more I hook my coat on that, the more I realize I am not supposed to always fit in, look at this skin. There will be discomfort. Even in my knobby-ness and hurt feelings, as much as I try, I am at church for more than meeting my own needs.
Hey oh! It's not all about me. I am working on this.
[And each week that I keep going and serving and trying to love and be loved I have been given confirmation that I am being taught and worshiping where I am supposed to.]
Because I am a human, and I feel like The Most horrible example of telling others about Jesus, there is a link I want to share with you. It's called The Story and well, that's pretty much it.
(If you click on 'read the story' and then click on the little open book symbol it will be larger to read)
I believe in that story and think that I, a storyteller myself, can not continue sharing my life and my journey as a person with four children
trying to crawl out of the wrong shell I've mistakenly made my home... thought it was the right shell found I was wrong,
and how I can not try to be who I was created to be, without telling you what I truly believe and know to be true. And this story is the basis of all my stories. It's where I've been and
it's why I'm here and
it's where I am going
I don't even know how to end this
this whatever this is.
I don't even know. If I could only spill out my heart so you could turn it over and examine, if somehow my words grew stems and became a song and it all made sense. If you could read my shadows' palms maybe you'd understand. If only you'd bear with me - If only I'd bear with me - what have I been doing all my life? I've said and done all the "right things" and I still mess it up,
and I am so confused by my selfishness, and why He'd still love me and do the great things
but He does anyway.