©hannah mclean 2-2-14
still teetering
like one who stepped off
a spinning, twirling, whirling thing
knocking the equilibrium
out of sync with
the ground on which the feet now stand
the eyes struggle to adjust
to the distorted view they now hold
the hands reach out for balance
only to find the seeming things left to grip
are but a deception
created by an illusion
of things the eyes picked up
along the way
and then there are the feet
the cautious feet
that move from side to side
in a quest for stability
to hold back
the inevitable fall
look down!
reach down.
fall down...
there is but
One Thing that is stable
One Thing that is unchanging
One Thing that has not moved
not even in the moments
the mind has begged for it to
open up and swallow whole
not even in the darkness
when everything around was lost
for lack of light
there is but One Thing
still teetering
i look down
at the ground beneath my feet
a solid stone
unassuming in its solidity
demanding no recognition
simply upholding
still teetering
i reach down
and run my fingers along this wonder
that is too large to evade
the distance of
my stumbling, running, stammering feet
it has the feel of a face
weathered by the pains
i have endured
but with a strength
i have not possessed
still teetering
i fall down
and press my cheek against the soil
too soft to leave me injured in my decent
and yet
too hard to give way to the pressure
of my burdensome heart
and with my head upon this mysterious Rock
i realize that the teetering
i feel when upright
cannot command me
cannot define me
cannot determine where i will go
not as long as i rest upon
the ground on which
my feet have stood
my eyes have looked
my hand has felt
my knees have knelt
my head has laid
for though i may teeter
with uncertainty at life’s changes
though i may seek to balance
on what cannot stand firm
though i may stumble
in the dark and foggy places
i need only
look down
reach down
fall down
for there is One Thing that never fails
my Jesus
oh Great Rock on which
this house of dirt is built
oh Faithful One that never leaves
nor forsakes
You are broader than
the places my feet would seek to stand
You are fuller than
the things i would seek to fill my hands
You are more than
the whole of which my eyes could take in
You are Jesus
the One redeeming King
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
"...and Your gentleness made me great."
The other evening as I drove home in the darkness of a cold, still evening with my babies fast asleep in the seats behind me, I talked to the Lord. I was considering my year as it came to a close; a year where the slowness of my crawl from fear of growth and the seeming stagnancy of my spiritual life stood out in my mind as my greatest laments. I considered the things I had walked though and my inability to return to where I had been before various life events had crashed into me like waves that transform the shorelines they beat against. And as I thought about the realities of the weaknesses that made me hesitant to seek or feel change in my life, I realized, through tears, that while in the past my deepest growths had been accompanied by my deepest pains, this year my deepest growths had been accompanied by my deepest comforts. This verse entered my mind and has rolled through it ever since:
Psalm 18: 35 “You have given me the shield of Your salvation, and Your right had supported me, and Your gentleness made me great.”
If I have one thing to say about my life in the year 2013, it is that the Lord has been gentle with me. At every failing turn, in every bewildering bout of weakness, beside all of my lamenting sorrows, He has responded to, met with and upheld me in the gentlest of ways. When I shouted, He whispered; when I wept, He held me; when I floundered, He set pillars around me; when I was too tired to lift my head, He laid down beside me; when I faltered, He offered me another chance; when I was without words, He told me the truth; when I was afraid, He held my hand; when I was without the strength to lift my burdens, He lent me the backs of His people; and when I forgot Him, He remained beside me, above me, below me, before me, behind me, inside me...so that no matter where I turned to see His face it was there--shining, shielding, soothing, sufficient.
This was a year where life and growth were offered to me in unfamiliar ways, it was a year of learning to receive and accept when my hands were empty of anything to offer in return. It was a year not marked by new pains, but by the slow healing of old pains that linger. It may not have been a year of flourishing, of returning to the place of peace and strength where I had previously stood...but instead, it was a year of sustaining and of realizing that I am not meant to go back (even if the place I had to leave behind was peaceful and nourishing). Where I am going this new year, I don’t know. But this is what I do know: There are dimensions of the Lord--His mercy, His grace, His sufficiency, His power, His holiness, His justice, His love--that I will know at the end of it that I would never have glimpsed had I not trudged my way through this valley.
Because this is what I know to be true of the Lord:
Ezekiel 34:11–26
For thus says the Lord God: “Behold, I, I myself will search for My sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so I will seek out My sheep, and I will rescue them from all the places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them OUT from the peoples and gather them IN to their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down...I Myself will be the shepherd of My sheep, and I Myself will make them lie down,” declares the Lord God. “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak...”
When the Lord brings His people from the places of clouds and darkness, He is always faithful to bring them to a place of provision, safety and rest, where He graciously tends to them in whatever condition He has found them; displaying His gentle sufficiency and mercy at He meets their every need.
The Lord has been gentle with me. Gentle in words, gentle in touch, gentle in mercy...where I have expected pain, again and again He has applied healing balm and a gentle word. And that changes a person for the better. I may not recognize the changes at this moment, but I feel myself change with every encounter I have with this gentle Lord of mine. While I do not know what is coming in 2014, I know who I am with...and that is enough to fuel hope for the remainder of my lifetime and the forever that follows.
Psalm 18: 35 “You have given me the shield of Your salvation, and Your right had supported me, and Your gentleness made me great.”
If I have one thing to say about my life in the year 2013, it is that the Lord has been gentle with me. At every failing turn, in every bewildering bout of weakness, beside all of my lamenting sorrows, He has responded to, met with and upheld me in the gentlest of ways. When I shouted, He whispered; when I wept, He held me; when I floundered, He set pillars around me; when I was too tired to lift my head, He laid down beside me; when I faltered, He offered me another chance; when I was without words, He told me the truth; when I was afraid, He held my hand; when I was without the strength to lift my burdens, He lent me the backs of His people; and when I forgot Him, He remained beside me, above me, below me, before me, behind me, inside me...so that no matter where I turned to see His face it was there--shining, shielding, soothing, sufficient.
This was a year where life and growth were offered to me in unfamiliar ways, it was a year of learning to receive and accept when my hands were empty of anything to offer in return. It was a year not marked by new pains, but by the slow healing of old pains that linger. It may not have been a year of flourishing, of returning to the place of peace and strength where I had previously stood...but instead, it was a year of sustaining and of realizing that I am not meant to go back (even if the place I had to leave behind was peaceful and nourishing). Where I am going this new year, I don’t know. But this is what I do know: There are dimensions of the Lord--His mercy, His grace, His sufficiency, His power, His holiness, His justice, His love--that I will know at the end of it that I would never have glimpsed had I not trudged my way through this valley.
Because this is what I know to be true of the Lord:
Ezekiel 34:11–26
For thus says the Lord God: “Behold, I, I myself will search for My sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so I will seek out My sheep, and I will rescue them from all the places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them OUT from the peoples and gather them IN to their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down...I Myself will be the shepherd of My sheep, and I Myself will make them lie down,” declares the Lord God. “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak...”
When the Lord brings His people from the places of clouds and darkness, He is always faithful to bring them to a place of provision, safety and rest, where He graciously tends to them in whatever condition He has found them; displaying His gentle sufficiency and mercy at He meets their every need.
The Lord has been gentle with me. Gentle in words, gentle in touch, gentle in mercy...where I have expected pain, again and again He has applied healing balm and a gentle word. And that changes a person for the better. I may not recognize the changes at this moment, but I feel myself change with every encounter I have with this gentle Lord of mine. While I do not know what is coming in 2014, I know who I am with...and that is enough to fuel hope for the remainder of my lifetime and the forever that follows.
Friday, December 27, 2013
"But not in Your kingdom, Lord."
Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
-----
I have always enjoyed this poem. When I first encountered it years ago, my heart resonated with its sorrowful lament and meticulously measured rhythm. I am sure you could agree that it is a beautifully written piece. One I hadn’t thought about in a very long time. But the other day, it rolled though my mind following an unexpected phone call.
The call was from a woman at my church who I had spoken to that morning; we had talked about how worn out I was, how I was struggling to regain my ability to function with very little sleep and we had commiserated about the cruelty of winter and its ability to cause long, drawn-out sickness. She had called to ask if she could bring me a meal so I wouldn’t have to worry about cooking for my family. That morning was the only time we had ever spoken (in my memory).
Then entered the poem above and it was accompanied by the articulation of a reality: ”But not in Your kingdom, Lord,” my heart said. The people of God and the Kingdom of God and the person of Jesus...they are different (or at least called to be different). God’s people are called to rejoice with the one who rejoices and to weep with the one who weeps (Romans 12:15); we are called to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2); we follow Jesus, who ate with the outcasts (Matthew 9:10-13) and knelt in the dirt with the sick (The New Testament). We are called to hop onto the "trains of pain" that others ride as they intersect with our lives.
I was comforted as I marveled at the contrast between the “world” Ella Wheeler Wilcox speaks of and the reality of those who walk in the Light of Jesus. The response I have been given in the expression of my troubles has not been one of avoidance, but instead, people have sought to help me carry my load...be it through offers to take care of my babies, cook me meals, pray, free me up for the time to sleep, etc. No one has squirmed uncomfortably when I have burst into tears at awkward times in the conversations, they haven’t told me to buck up or made me feel weak because of my obvious weaknesses. They have graciously and compassionately endured my whining, hugged me and extended their support in whatever ways they could.
Instead of my sighs being “lost on the air,” they have been answered by the genuine care of loving people. And I am thankful. I am thankful that God’s way is different that the world’s way. I am thankful for the hands that have reached out to help me and the backs that have sought to share in carrying my burden.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
-----
I have always enjoyed this poem. When I first encountered it years ago, my heart resonated with its sorrowful lament and meticulously measured rhythm. I am sure you could agree that it is a beautifully written piece. One I hadn’t thought about in a very long time. But the other day, it rolled though my mind following an unexpected phone call.
The call was from a woman at my church who I had spoken to that morning; we had talked about how worn out I was, how I was struggling to regain my ability to function with very little sleep and we had commiserated about the cruelty of winter and its ability to cause long, drawn-out sickness. She had called to ask if she could bring me a meal so I wouldn’t have to worry about cooking for my family. That morning was the only time we had ever spoken (in my memory).
Then entered the poem above and it was accompanied by the articulation of a reality: ”But not in Your kingdom, Lord,” my heart said. The people of God and the Kingdom of God and the person of Jesus...they are different (or at least called to be different). God’s people are called to rejoice with the one who rejoices and to weep with the one who weeps (Romans 12:15); we are called to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2); we follow Jesus, who ate with the outcasts (Matthew 9:10-13) and knelt in the dirt with the sick (The New Testament). We are called to hop onto the "trains of pain" that others ride as they intersect with our lives.
I was comforted as I marveled at the contrast between the “world” Ella Wheeler Wilcox speaks of and the reality of those who walk in the Light of Jesus. The response I have been given in the expression of my troubles has not been one of avoidance, but instead, people have sought to help me carry my load...be it through offers to take care of my babies, cook me meals, pray, free me up for the time to sleep, etc. No one has squirmed uncomfortably when I have burst into tears at awkward times in the conversations, they haven’t told me to buck up or made me feel weak because of my obvious weaknesses. They have graciously and compassionately endured my whining, hugged me and extended their support in whatever ways they could.
Instead of my sighs being “lost on the air,” they have been answered by the genuine care of loving people. And I am thankful. I am thankful that God’s way is different that the world’s way. I am thankful for the hands that have reached out to help me and the backs that have sought to share in carrying my burden.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
"Hear the angels sing"
It’s the Christmas season. While usually one of my favorite times in my Christian world, this season I feel like I have sort of let it pass me by. Not out of the typical things that distract my vision from the deity of Christ and His arrival on earth--such as busyness or focus on secular tradition--but instead, the immense physical and emotion strain I am under has pulled my gaze toward myself and my distinct desperation to survive another day; drained of energy and strength, I find myself barely able to hold myself together as I clumsily sway between fatigued and barely functional with no apparent way out.
It is a painful realization, really. To find that after almost 10 years, I still cling to myself in the trenches instead of clinging to God...Why do I have to crawl along the gravel road until my knees are torn up and my blood pours before I finally just curl up in the hand of the Lord and let Him be enough for me? How many times, how deep a hole, how sharp the ground?
But God is always gracious, not just some of the time when I might deserve it. He is always enough, not just when I’ve got something to bring to the table. He is always loving, not just when I’m lovable. And Christmas is all about that...the reality of God’s compassion, His grace, His sufficiency, His love made visible in the neatly swaddled, yet unexpected, form of the Christ child--Deity in human form; to die and bring us life. Therefore, it is fitting that the words that lift me up today and fill me with hope for tomorrow come from a Christmas carol. I have heard it a million times and yet never really listened to the words (from It Came Upon a Midnight Clear):
“And you, beneath life’s crushing load
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow.
Look now for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing!”
There is rest for me from what crushes, bends and pains me; there is peace for me beside the road that wearies me; there is Jesus--the glorious peace-giver, Lord and Savior and King, the bringer of goodwill. Oh that I would stop my trudging steps and listen to the angels proclaim Him, His glory and His promise; oh that my weakness would not cause me to miss the glorious sound of His proclamation and His coming; oh that my heart would not clamor to beat with any life other that the one made new by this Jesus whom we celebrate this Christmas season.
May I respond to the invitation in Matthew 11:28, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” May I join the shepherds to go and gaze upon this God/man! May I not let this season pass me by without marveling and rejoicing in the one who came to save. May I find rest beside my weary road as I tune my ears to the angels’ songs of praise. And, if my voice is released from whatever ails me, may it join those of the hosts of heaven as they pour out praise this Christmas Day.
It is a painful realization, really. To find that after almost 10 years, I still cling to myself in the trenches instead of clinging to God...Why do I have to crawl along the gravel road until my knees are torn up and my blood pours before I finally just curl up in the hand of the Lord and let Him be enough for me? How many times, how deep a hole, how sharp the ground?
But God is always gracious, not just some of the time when I might deserve it. He is always enough, not just when I’ve got something to bring to the table. He is always loving, not just when I’m lovable. And Christmas is all about that...the reality of God’s compassion, His grace, His sufficiency, His love made visible in the neatly swaddled, yet unexpected, form of the Christ child--Deity in human form; to die and bring us life. Therefore, it is fitting that the words that lift me up today and fill me with hope for tomorrow come from a Christmas carol. I have heard it a million times and yet never really listened to the words (from It Came Upon a Midnight Clear):
“And you, beneath life’s crushing load
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow.
Look now for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing!”
There is rest for me from what crushes, bends and pains me; there is peace for me beside the road that wearies me; there is Jesus--the glorious peace-giver, Lord and Savior and King, the bringer of goodwill. Oh that I would stop my trudging steps and listen to the angels proclaim Him, His glory and His promise; oh that my weakness would not cause me to miss the glorious sound of His proclamation and His coming; oh that my heart would not clamor to beat with any life other that the one made new by this Jesus whom we celebrate this Christmas season.
May I respond to the invitation in Matthew 11:28, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” May I join the shepherds to go and gaze upon this God/man! May I not let this season pass me by without marveling and rejoicing in the one who came to save. May I find rest beside my weary road as I tune my ears to the angels’ songs of praise. And, if my voice is released from whatever ails me, may it join those of the hosts of heaven as they pour out praise this Christmas Day.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
a song from Psalm 16
©hannah mclean
in Your presence
there is joy
of fullness is the measure
for what You show
and help me know
secures my meek endeavors
this path of life
i'll ever walk
with You always before me
my right hand firm
within Your own
lets my whole being adore Thee
in Your presence
there is joy
of fullness is the measure
for what You show
and help me know
secures my meek endeavors
this path of life
i'll ever walk
with You always before me
my right hand firm
within Your own
lets my whole being adore Thee
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
"Come and hear..."
Psalm 66:8-13,16 “Bless our God, O peoples; let the sound of His praise be heard, who has kept our soul among the living and has not let our feet slip. For You, O God, have tested us; You have tried us as silver is tried. You brought us into the net; You laid a crushing burden on our backs; You let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; yet You have brought us out to a place of abundance. I will come into Your house with burnt offerings...Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for my soul.”
On the other side of heartache, still a little burnt from the scorching sun of a long walk through the desert, beginning to regain sight as the wide-eyed shock of life wanes...I find my heart calling out, “Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for my soul.”
It is not because the crushing burdens have been lifted from my shoulders, my feet untangled from the net below, or my clothes yet dry from the treading water or patched from where the fire sought to devour me...but instead it is the reality of the Strength that supports my bowed back, the Grace that lifts my feet that I may move slowly forward, and the Faithfulness that brings me through the flames and waves.
“Bless our God,” I can say, as my roots hold firm.
“Let the sound of His praise be heard,” I can proclaim, as I hold to the promise of the abundance to which I will be led.
Tested and purified
I cry,
“Come and hear
of the Faithful One that strengthens faith
in weakness.”
On the other side of heartache, still a little burnt from the scorching sun of a long walk through the desert, beginning to regain sight as the wide-eyed shock of life wanes...I find my heart calling out, “Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for my soul.”
It is not because the crushing burdens have been lifted from my shoulders, my feet untangled from the net below, or my clothes yet dry from the treading water or patched from where the fire sought to devour me...but instead it is the reality of the Strength that supports my bowed back, the Grace that lifts my feet that I may move slowly forward, and the Faithfulness that brings me through the flames and waves.
“Bless our God,” I can say, as my roots hold firm.
“Let the sound of His praise be heard,” I can proclaim, as I hold to the promise of the abundance to which I will be led.
Tested and purified
I cry,
“Come and hear
of the Faithful One that strengthens faith
in weakness.”
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Worn
Worn by Tenth Avenue North
I’m tired, I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes
To keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left
CHORUS: Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn
I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left
CHORUS
My prayers are wearing thin, I’m worn
Even before the day begins, I’m worn
I’ve lost my will to fight, I’m worn
So, heaven come and flood my eyes
CHORUS
Cause all that’s dead inside will be reborn
Though I’m worn
--
Life has been hard lately...That’s just the way it is. I’m 10 weeks pregnant; I’m tired, I’m impatient, I am overwhelmed by life, babies and myself; I just need a break, to step back and take a little retreat into a peaceful place to be refilled. But I can’t get away.
I’ve had a hard time scheduling things because when it comes to going, I get super overwhelmed and stressed out, and then my poor babies have to endure my impatience and stress. I know that Myla is super needy right now BECAUSE of me...she’s a sensitive little creature. It’s a vicious cycle and place to be. I feel like I am constantly tending to the wants and needs of others and have no time to even take a deep breath and process what I need. And I know that motherhood is all about sacrifice, setting aside myself for the sake of my family...but though I truly love and am immensely blessed by motherhood, it is hard. I am worn out.
So today I am sitting in a coffee shop, I told Nathan I needed some time alone and abandoned him with the napping babies. On the way here, I heard the song above (Worn by Tenth Avenue North). The line that struck my heart in the car was this, “I know I need to lift my eyes up, but I'm too weak...” I looked up the full lyrics when I got inside and found that they really sum up where I’m at lately.
And that’s proof that God knows me.
Does He ever do that for you? Does He ever articulate your heart before you even begin to try (for me, not knowing where I'm at causes me distress in and of itself)? Does He ever minister to you before you even ask? Does He ever comfort you simply by letting you know, “Hey, I see you. I know your struggles. I haven’t forgotten you or left you or abandoned you. You may have to linger in this place, but I am lingering with you”? That’s what Jesus does for me. He’s kind like that.
Because here’s the truth: I know redemption wins. I know the struggle will end. I know the heart can mend, no matter how frail or torn. I know a song can rise. I know what’s dead can be reborn. Even when I’m worn. I know Jesus holds me together when my glue fails. I know He always pulls me closer the moment I turn my eyes in a panic to look for Him. I know He hasn’t overlooked my mess, even when there seems to be no end to the heap that’s on my shoulders. I know He has me firmly planted in the palm of His hand and that it is ok to fall apart because nothing can separate me from Him. That’s my Jesus. He’s kind like that.
when i am too worn
when i am too weak
though i languish
though i cannot speak
i do not have to fear
my failing
because You are Lord
ever prevailing
and it is ok if I must fall
as long as i fall into You
I’m tired, I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes
To keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left
CHORUS: Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn
I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left
CHORUS
My prayers are wearing thin, I’m worn
Even before the day begins, I’m worn
I’ve lost my will to fight, I’m worn
So, heaven come and flood my eyes
CHORUS
Cause all that’s dead inside will be reborn
Though I’m worn
--
Life has been hard lately...That’s just the way it is. I’m 10 weeks pregnant; I’m tired, I’m impatient, I am overwhelmed by life, babies and myself; I just need a break, to step back and take a little retreat into a peaceful place to be refilled. But I can’t get away.
I’ve had a hard time scheduling things because when it comes to going, I get super overwhelmed and stressed out, and then my poor babies have to endure my impatience and stress. I know that Myla is super needy right now BECAUSE of me...she’s a sensitive little creature. It’s a vicious cycle and place to be. I feel like I am constantly tending to the wants and needs of others and have no time to even take a deep breath and process what I need. And I know that motherhood is all about sacrifice, setting aside myself for the sake of my family...but though I truly love and am immensely blessed by motherhood, it is hard. I am worn out.
So today I am sitting in a coffee shop, I told Nathan I needed some time alone and abandoned him with the napping babies. On the way here, I heard the song above (Worn by Tenth Avenue North). The line that struck my heart in the car was this, “I know I need to lift my eyes up, but I'm too weak...” I looked up the full lyrics when I got inside and found that they really sum up where I’m at lately.
And that’s proof that God knows me.
Does He ever do that for you? Does He ever articulate your heart before you even begin to try (for me, not knowing where I'm at causes me distress in and of itself)? Does He ever minister to you before you even ask? Does He ever comfort you simply by letting you know, “Hey, I see you. I know your struggles. I haven’t forgotten you or left you or abandoned you. You may have to linger in this place, but I am lingering with you”? That’s what Jesus does for me. He’s kind like that.
Because here’s the truth: I know redemption wins. I know the struggle will end. I know the heart can mend, no matter how frail or torn. I know a song can rise. I know what’s dead can be reborn. Even when I’m worn. I know Jesus holds me together when my glue fails. I know He always pulls me closer the moment I turn my eyes in a panic to look for Him. I know He hasn’t overlooked my mess, even when there seems to be no end to the heap that’s on my shoulders. I know He has me firmly planted in the palm of His hand and that it is ok to fall apart because nothing can separate me from Him. That’s my Jesus. He’s kind like that.
when i am too worn
when i am too weak
though i languish
though i cannot speak
i do not have to fear
my failing
because You are Lord
ever prevailing
and it is ok if I must fall
as long as i fall into You
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