Pockets of Turbulent Air

There have been so many days in the past month or two when I've wanted to quit. Today was the latest example of "one of those days." It started brightly--joy and hope were close companions this morning. Within a few hours, I was thinking again about how it would feel to throw in the towel, leave the country, start a new life. Part of it sounds lovely. Problem is, I reminded myself once again that the things rising up in this current process would certainly follow me wherever I landed.

Now, that's a helpful reality check when I imagine leaving it all behind because well, I wouldn't. Leave it all behind, that is.

My emotional margin is at an all time low. I find myself trying to fight against where I'm at because it feels terrible. I wish the tears weren't just below the surface. I wish the chaos felt manageable. I wish I knew how to "fix" the way I'm feeling and the things I'm seeing so I can just keep moving.

The funny thing is, I'm realizing how thankful I am that I can't keep moving. I'm thankful when I see the truth that this is hard. I'm thankful for how silly I feel when the tears hit the surface and I cannot hide how I'm affected. All of these things are gifts. Gifts!

I remember how this competent woman does not lose her competency in the face of feelings. I remember how this stuff I'm a part of is so much bigger than me. I remember how good it is to depend on Jesus. I take these moments to sit with Him and tell Him all about it.  I remember how He's the One who gives me what I need to do what He's asked me to do. (Even when I feel like that's absolutely nothing... He always gives me something to give when it's needed.)

His mercies are new every day. Every single day. Grace abounds. Every single day. Love invites and awaits me. Every single day.

I'm alone a lot these days. I feel it acutely. I'm pouring out a lot. I only have a couple ongoing safe spaces where I can unabashedly lay it all out and there isn't much time in those spaces. There are some dear people who want to journey with me. I'm trying to remember to invite them in as regularly as possible. Distance makes it hard, but boy am I grateful they'd want to journey with me in the first place.

When I consider those realities, I take a deeper breath. This is not easy. But, I believe with all of my heart, it is fruitful. The fruit comes in the being--He's changing me as I sit with Him in these places. He's bringing clarity and hope on days when I long for it, but have no clue where it will come from. He's bringing intimacy and kindness; care and compassion. He's helping me to persevere.

And today, I saw a safe friend and asked him if he would hug me and he did. He just held me for a short time and cared for me where I was at without knowing a thing about any of it. Later, three people checked in on me. They wanted to know how I was doing. They noticed me then took the additional step to let me know that they saw me. I cried. More. All of those things meant the world to me today.

When one friend called to see what happened I simply stated, "I just hit some unexpected turbulence today." Isn't that the truth? It caught me off guard--again. I think these are the moments where grace abounds though. I'm not sure what will trigger the tenderness, but I hope to move through it with dignity and resist the urge to run from relationship (with the Lord and others) when I fly over a fresh patch.