Wrangling my thoughts of late has been as hard as wrangling my three-year old girl for bedtime after she has an unplanned two-hour nap before supper.
No one culprit is to blame and I would love to blame anything but the truth, because per usual, the truth hurts.
The busy season. The busy mom. The busy teacher. The busy wife. The busy friend. The busy ministry helper. The busy. Busy. Busy…
A dry well won’t help a thirsty village any more than a dry spirit will quench a thirsty soul.
Soul laid bare, that’s where I am these days. This night in the warmth of my cozy, tree-lit room, curled up by the wood stove enjoying the serenity of a house at rest…and struggling to find the same.
Busy, but busted. Drenched, but dry. Overwhelmed, but underfed.
On the heels of the season of giving thanks and the cusp of the season of embracing The Greatest Gift, something’s been lost. Or worse yet, Someone has been lost?
For thirty-one days I wrote and the words came and they meant something to me. I didn’t manufacture them, as is my greatest fear. I never want this place to become a word factory for the sake of words and not for His sake, for goodness sake.
When the words don’t come easy, they don’t come at all and if they don’t come at all, then there’s nothing to say. The thing is I believe I have words left in me.
But an empty bucket can’t bring any water out of the well.
Here’s some honest to goodness truth for you, even though it hurts to admit. I’ve not been getting enough of Him to give any away and that hurts me as much as it has the potential of hurting you.
And in true “Merdie” fashion I had high hopes to start a month of Advent with our children and follow along with Ann Voskamp’s beautiful new book, Unwrapping the Greatest Gift. We read the preview and then missed the FIRST night. Yep. The first night. How hard can this be?
So tonight we read two. And it was beautiful.
I watched my girl name people who needed to know God loves them…and she was right. I watched my boy question that God in three persons actually kissed life into the first man and then eyes come alive with wonder when the light bulb went off. He knows the story, He’s been knowing it his whole life. But tonight he got it.
And tonight I got it, too. I got the message loud and clear and near and dear.
“We were made by love…for love.” That’s what Ann said and it stuck. I read it over to the kids hoping it would stick with them, too.
You and I were made for more than this.
Made for more than what we know and see and touch and feel.
Made to love those we look past, skim over and drive by.
Made to show God’s love to the very people we can’t stand.
Made to get over our busy lives and get on with living in and through the love that is in us if He is in us.
I know I’m redeemed. Saved. Restored. Rescued. He is in me. I just have to dig deep to let His love out somedays. And I have to keep filling myself with Him in every way possible to have more to give.
I knew this. I know it now. But I wasn’t working towards it. I wasn’t living it. I haven’t been filling up with Him to let His love come up and over and out.
Tonight I’m grateful for reminders and second-chances and a perfect God that loves even imperfect me and imperfect you.
I’m also grateful for this scraggly, star-topped-heavy-leaning-over Christmas tree that is really the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. In all it’s imperfect ways, it still shines. Maybe that’s the best reminder of all.
It’s #Woman2Woman Wednesday again, born of my desire to talk about “woman stuff “ in a way that builds the sisterhood up and always points us towards Christ. Always and in ALL grace.
If you have a blog and would like to join the link-up, we would love to have your beautiful self! If you do, please link back to this site (use the button if you wish) and also please comment on the person linked up before you. We are all about sharing love and grace here.
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