Saturday, July 9, 2011

I Know and I Can't

So it's been awhile. It's been awhile because I've been traveling 3 out of the last 4 weeks.

And it was awesome.

I just got back from St. Simons Island, Georgia. I met some insanely cool people, like the kind of cool that makes you want to move to the other side of the country to be around them. Needless to say, it was hard to leave that kind of coolness.

The other reason I haven't blogged recently is because I'm super discouraged. I don't know about y'all, but sometimes I just want to throw in the dang towel on this whole Christian walk thing.

It's hard. And I believe in hard things. I think we've learned to assimilate the word "hard" with the word "bad." But regardless of hard just flat out being hard, it also can just lead to losing hope. And that I have.

There have been glimpses, like in North Carolina, that have given me some peace. But as of late, I just have been asking God "what do I do with this?" And to be honest, I'm just really scared. What if this year is as hard as last year? Why did I have to leave something (Georgia) that was so good for me? What is the point of prayer (I'll get into that another day)? And even if I don't find these answers for awhile, am I still going to see God as good?

I don't want my perceptions of God to be circumstantial, in fact, I beg Him to make sure they're not. But it puts me in places like this, where I feel lonely and tired. And that sucks.

Within my belief in hard things, I recognize the need for encouragement and hope. I remember back to this winter when I hit my low point and hearing that my sister was believing Truth for me. It was sheer relief when I felt like I had someone to help me bear the burden I was feeling. And here I am again, longing for that taste of community. The type where I feel understood and loved regardless, where there's no striving, but rest within relationship.

Last night the Lord reminded me that I need to stop pointing out what I don't have and believe in Him to be good enough to provide for me. It was a lightbulb moment. One I haven't fully grasped yet. My mom said when she has moments like this she just prays, "I know, and I can't."

And that's it. I know. But I can't do it Lord. I am frail and small. I am tired and lonely. I'm just asking for goodness and mercy to wash over me. And that's where I find myself right now. Missing those friendships in Georgia, and asking for God to provide here.

1 comment:

  1. Em, this is a beautiful post. The honesty is just gripping.

    May I just say that I too am losing hope? That I know, but can't.