I find myself astounded – again. In some swift miracle, I am Emily again. I am eating chips and cooking dinner and dancing in the kitchen with my man. I am marveling at my girls and considering God’s Word. And a week ago I was still in the trenches of “just get through the day.” No one was dying. There was no great tragedy, but I felt like I was barely holding my head above water. I felt like I couldn’t thrive or be enough. I didn’t turn from God or get angry at Him. I just – walked before Him.
And for the first time, maybe ever, I didn’t wrestle against the season. I didn’t beat myself up about my lack of Bible reading or an ability to pray anything more than, “Please help me be kind to my children.” I rested in three months of not being enough, of a dirty house, of my man taking care of me. I’m not saying I did it gracefully or without complaining – but I didn’t fight it. I walked before God in that season – honest and open and in full faith that He would, in His time, get me where I needed to be.
He did. I am awake, snuggling into the warmth of Truth and the Word of the God who created me. He drew me back in. He always has. This is all I need to know, all I need to hold onto. He always ushers me right into the place I need to be. I am beginning to wonder if living like this – like it’s God’s promise to grow us and change us and draw us, not our burden – is a bit of the greatest faith we can have. Certainly it is more peaceful and restful than any other way I’ve ever lived.
It’s only up to me to respond. To say “Yes.” And to kneel upon the battlefield and acknowledge that He has carried and held – and that never once did I ever walk alone. Breathe in grace. Breathe out praise. In the pukes or in the glow. That’s really all He asks.