Moved

So much has happened since I’ve last posted here. Much has changed situationally for us as a family. So much has changed for me spiritually.

I felt prompted to take a break from writing in the spring of 2023. A lot was happening for me internally and relationally. I needed time to process without the temptation to share here out of a place of hurt and anger. I also felt like God was working on some big things in me. Spoiler alert: that’s still happening. In more recent months I’ve felt prompted to share here again.

When you read this title I hope you don’t think I up and moved without telling anyone. Not in a physical sense anyway. My heart is what has moved. It’s been through a lot in these recent years. This heart of mine has been awakened and strengthened in the re-shaping of my identity. It’s grown in hope in a way I didn’t know was possible. It’s faced hard things by learning to look to Jesus. It’s also been shattered and re-shattered. This feeling isn’t new and yet, I still find it disorienting. I’ve scrambled to pick up the pieces and put it back together as if my panic will undo the hurt. I’ll be the first to tell you that speed is not a great help in this task; none-the-less that was my first instinct. Put it back together speedily. Is there not work to do for the Kingdom? There is and I was here for it. Almost in denial of what had just occurred. “Get up and dust off ol’ girl. We’ll keep going.”

But I didn’t dust off. I didn’t keep going. I felt spiritually paralyzed.

What I didn’t understand was that while I rushed to ‘move on’, the doubt and questions that sat under the surface were an invitation from God Himself. My natural inclination was to bypass this. My self talk sounded a lot like, “You’ve been through this before” or “You saw it coming, therefore, you can’t be that wounded over it,” and yet, I was. So in this moment when my flesh said, “move on” and “be tough”, God’s invitation said, “Come with your weariness. With your shattered pieces, still scattered. With your wound still gaping. Come now, in the middle of it, and I will give you rest.”

I thought I had learned this concept. Come as you are. However, I found myself questioning everything. The identity that I experienced God changing with his truth? Shattered. My understanding of friendship that I thought he renewed? Shattered. Not gone, but broken. Confused.

And so began the last two and a half years of a writing hiatus and intensive healing. Learning to be here. Present with my own pain. Sitting in the dust with Jesus instead of sweeping the dust up around him telling him I’m ready for the next thing. He knows better. This was the next thing. To seek him. To face it. To be sad. To be truly healed instead of developing callouses.

In these two years I have begun to learn the art of sitting with my pain in a different way. I’ve been learning it in a community that has practiced the work of the Spirit in the way that they’ve enveloped, accepted and encouraged me and my family toward healing. To be in the presence of this many people who will sit with your pain and point you back to Jesus? I’m bewildered in the best way.

The worst part about learning to be present in pain and grief is that it gets worse before it gets better. Not only that but as you are learning this new way to process things, life keeps happening around you. So there’s new things to process and grow through. This can be so overwhelming. To do this hard work without going numb is impossible for me. I need Jesus. I need community. I need community to remind me that he’s here with me and won’t leave me in the cycle of apathy and chaos. I need Jesus to do massive work in my heart and my nervous system. I need community to be the hands, feet and sometimes the literal shoulders to cry on as I speak out loud my deepest pain and fears. I need them to pray over me and worship with me and still accept me after those things are spoken. I need them to not be shocked by my brokenness so that I can stay vulnerable. They can only do that through the power of the Holy Spirit.

This is why the church is so so important. And this is why church hurt hurts so deeply. Because this is Christ body, here to do the will of him who saves. The saving has been done and the saving is being done. The work of the church matters. The sin of the church matters. The moving forward in humility and accountability matters. My sin matters. My forgiveness matters. Your sin matters. Your forgiveness matters. Our witness matters.

Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works…

Hebrews 10:23-24

He does not leave us in the dark. This heart work is Kingdom work. It takes diligence and rest. It takes patience and perseverance. It takes the Holy Spirit. It takes community.

And I am here for it.