it’s a little too early for me to be up on a Saturday morning. I’ve got a cup of coffee on the desk next to me, and my soul feels at once quiet and ridiculously, absurdly chaotic. The quiet is the unnatural stillness after the storm, where I feel small and guilty for allowing things to pile up and crash over me the way they did, and the chaos is the knowledge that these things are still there; not “dealt with” and not “moved past,” and the fact that they are still there means that they still bother me. 

As long as there is life there will be chaos. And yet we are told to be still and wait. 

“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” – Colossians 1:17

A waiting season is never a wasted season. If God chooses to withhold something from me, big or small, it must be because he is doing it for my ultimate good. Whether or not he one day gives it to me is beside the point. The point is always, in this moment – this moment right now, not some future moment when your faith is bigger – trusting in him and in his goodness. God is always at work in our lives, even when sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. Even when sometimes it seems like he’s turned away from you because he’s busier elsewhere, and his upholding hand is drooping and letting go and you’re just floundering on your own. 

Not true. Not true at all. Even then, God is present, and he is upholding me. He is loving me. 

The truth is, I forget these things. I forget them so. stinkin. often. And then I have emotional and mental breakdowns. 

And you know what? God loves me throughout them, because nothing can separate me from his love. Not even dramatic girl emotions. 

4 thoughts on “saturday

  1. *hug* I can relate. In some aspects of life my waiting season is over (it sure lasted ridiculously long, though), but my heart hurts over something else, a longing awakened. It’s been awakened all summer, but this week I realize how much I care for a certain person–and yet God has made His answer plain–no. And I really do trust Him for the future, but my heart is achy tonight.

    ~Brittany (Simmons)

  2. And to be honest, I’d rather not be achy alone. I have a sudden whim to cuddle up next to you on a couch and sip tea and have a heart-to-heart. It makes me feel better for a moment just to pretend.

  3. Brittany! Oh my goodness. However did you find this blog?

    You have expressed so incredibly well how I’ve been feeling so often and with increasingly steadiness lately.Trusting him for the future, but my heart is aching. I wish you could be here with me, too! Sometimes the best thing ever is the under-appreciated simple joy of knowing that someone is right there with you, empathizing with you and knowing and caring about what you’re going through. It would be such a blessing to each other, I know. And even just knowing that you are out there in the world right now…I suddenly feel less lonely. Bless you, Brittany!

  4. Hehe, I honestly can’t remember how I found your blog. I feel like I’ve been following it forever….you just haven’t written in that long. 😉

    Something you reminded me of… I feel like I can endure almost anything if I’m enduring it with someone else at my side who is enduring the same thing. You could say misery loves company. Or… “Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.” (1 Peter 5:9)

    I edited my settings so you can view the blog I’m commenting from, but I’d really like the share this blog with you. I just wrote an entry on there where I poured out my heart about something, and what comforted me then was what we’re talking about now–knowing I’m not alone.

    Love you, Abby.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s