I Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself.
This morning, my sister sent me an email with no other text than a link to this blogpost.
I kind of feel like the author of this blog, Lindsee, maaay have a secret window into my heart.
Yup, I'm pretty sure we were cut from the same cloth. This complete stranger is somehow also my kindred spirit.
God does that sometimes.
A few days ago, I posted a pretty raw blog reflecting on some of the tough work God has been doing in my heart as I muddle through life in this broken world, clutching the promise of healing, redemption, and hope-fulfilled with all I have left. I made a commitment when I started this blog to be as honest as possible. Always. Even when it is embarrassing. Even when it is the same sob story over and over. Despite my temptation to put on a front of faith and bliss in the midst of chaos, I have remained true to my vow that I will be authentic in my writing.
I wrote that post with tears in my eyes because it stung to admit that I still feel this aching, but also because I knew that I wasn't alone in the hurt. As I hit the "publish" button, I whispered a prayer that my words would somehow touch someone somewhere and remind them that they are seen, known, and loved. That they haven't been forgotten just because they haven't been complimented or taken on a date in awhile. That they are still being pursued, and that the promise of a TRUE forever is available, even if no one has slipped a ring on their finger (or even if someone has slipped a ring on their finger and then taken it back...I've been there. It hurts like hell.).
I spent well over an hour reflecting, praying, formulating my thoughts, and spilling them out in public, and I admit it: I was kind of proud of the conclusion God brought me.
And so, perhaps He meant to use what happened next as an experience to humble me (and I do thank Him for reminding me that my words aren't the end-all, be-all of wisdom when it comes to singleness). But still, I was a bit surprised at how deep seemingly harmless, playful comments cut me.
Out of all of those words, the one line others noticed (or at least commented on) the most was a sentence about still being in my pajamas at 10:00am. A sentence which I immediately followed with an acknowledgment that I am fully aware of the fact this is a "perk" of being single. I get it. The grass is always greener.
That's the nature of the Fall: we always want what we don't or can't have, and we're never sufficiently satisfied with what God has given us.
But you guys, just because I can sleep in as late as I want and I don't have to worry about showering or brushing my teeth for anyone, doesn't mean I wouldn't trade it all in a heartbeat to be kept awake all night by a crying baby I can call my own. (Nor does it mean that once said crying baby comes, I won't also post blogs about how exhausted I am by this blessing I have been given)
The point of my blog wasn't to rub it into anyone's faces that I can live life as I please, nor was it to state that I'm perfectly content in my singleness. I'm not. But the message I wanted to get across is that God is using this experience and this longing to teach me more and more of His own heart towards me. That He is bombarding me with reminders of His love. And that I'm learning that every ache of my heart is an opportunity to access a new dimension of the beautiful reality of redemption.
So Lindsee, thank you for putting words to my hurt, and the hurt of so many others, and for reminding us all of the importance of entering in to those broken places with one another and washing over them with love.
I kind of feel like the author of this blog, Lindsee, maaay have a secret window into my heart.
Yup, I'm pretty sure we were cut from the same cloth. This complete stranger is somehow also my kindred spirit.
God does that sometimes.
A few days ago, I posted a pretty raw blog reflecting on some of the tough work God has been doing in my heart as I muddle through life in this broken world, clutching the promise of healing, redemption, and hope-fulfilled with all I have left. I made a commitment when I started this blog to be as honest as possible. Always. Even when it is embarrassing. Even when it is the same sob story over and over. Despite my temptation to put on a front of faith and bliss in the midst of chaos, I have remained true to my vow that I will be authentic in my writing.
I wrote that post with tears in my eyes because it stung to admit that I still feel this aching, but also because I knew that I wasn't alone in the hurt. As I hit the "publish" button, I whispered a prayer that my words would somehow touch someone somewhere and remind them that they are seen, known, and loved. That they haven't been forgotten just because they haven't been complimented or taken on a date in awhile. That they are still being pursued, and that the promise of a TRUE forever is available, even if no one has slipped a ring on their finger (or even if someone has slipped a ring on their finger and then taken it back...I've been there. It hurts like hell.).
I spent well over an hour reflecting, praying, formulating my thoughts, and spilling them out in public, and I admit it: I was kind of proud of the conclusion God brought me.
And so, perhaps He meant to use what happened next as an experience to humble me (and I do thank Him for reminding me that my words aren't the end-all, be-all of wisdom when it comes to singleness). But still, I was a bit surprised at how deep seemingly harmless, playful comments cut me.
Out of all of those words, the one line others noticed (or at least commented on) the most was a sentence about still being in my pajamas at 10:00am. A sentence which I immediately followed with an acknowledgment that I am fully aware of the fact this is a "perk" of being single. I get it. The grass is always greener.
That's the nature of the Fall: we always want what we don't or can't have, and we're never sufficiently satisfied with what God has given us.
But you guys, just because I can sleep in as late as I want and I don't have to worry about showering or brushing my teeth for anyone, doesn't mean I wouldn't trade it all in a heartbeat to be kept awake all night by a crying baby I can call my own. (Nor does it mean that once said crying baby comes, I won't also post blogs about how exhausted I am by this blessing I have been given)
The point of my blog wasn't to rub it into anyone's faces that I can live life as I please, nor was it to state that I'm perfectly content in my singleness. I'm not. But the message I wanted to get across is that God is using this experience and this longing to teach me more and more of His own heart towards me. That He is bombarding me with reminders of His love. And that I'm learning that every ache of my heart is an opportunity to access a new dimension of the beautiful reality of redemption.
So Lindsee, thank you for putting words to my hurt, and the hurt of so many others, and for reminding us all of the importance of entering in to those broken places with one another and washing over them with love.
Comments
LOVE,
DAD