Tuesday, March 3, 2015

The One Where God Knows My Shoe Size

She Reads Truth... these girls bring it every time.  Every.Time.  And I'm forced to look at the mess around me and I don't want to.

This is just where I am and where I am not.  Needing to repent of my repentance.  Wanted to be washed and yet soaking in a tub of my own striving and pride.  I see the ruins but don't acknowledge them as such.  I see it how I want it to be.  Living in the fiction or fantasy section of my heart. 

Yet the ruins are all around me.  I sit atop the rubble and......  I quit my job because of the toxic environment.....just in time for my teenagers depressed meltdown....just in time to not really want to deal with anything or anyone.   I've wanted to run away more as an adult than I ever did as a child and well, there are books and medication for my childhood.
So I sit here app in hand, coffee in hand, rending.... What I don't really know. 

Amanda. She's my soul sister. I see me...In her writing.  Yesterday she talked about avoiding.

I do that.   I avoid.

Because going through is too hard. And there are a lot of "what ifs" about getting to the other side.

And I take FDR literally when he says, The only thing we have to fear is fear itself' 

So I'm even afraid of fear.    

I don't want to go through. I just want to be on the other side.   I don't want to repent, I just want to be cleansed. I just want Calgon to take me away.   Oops did I really say it out loud?  Did you hear that? I thought it was just in my head. 

I don't want to look at the rubble around me, I want to see what was or what could be. Not what is. 

And so I lament. Wait? I lament? Nooooo.... This is where God takes a cue from Tom Jones and says, 'Act your age, not your shoe size' and I'm pretty sure He's familiar with my shoe size.

To lament means, to mourn, to grieve, to weep or wail, to express sorrow. 

I'm not lamenting.  I'm soooo totally not lamenting. 

I'm not mourning or even weeping.  I'm complaining.  

Why God Why? 
When God When? 
Woe is me 

Why is all of this so hard and when are You gonna fix things (to my standards) and make it a little more comfortable? A little more? Ha! I meant cushy and care-free.  You know the one... right the kind where Hello, My Name Is Child Of The One True King.  Where I sit on the throne and ask God to serve me.  I wear my tiara, the one I gave myself through works and order God around.

Not the one where I sit on the pile of rubble with Godly Grief. 

If I'm honest and when have you known me not to be I don't have Godly Grief. 

I have 'good grief'. 

As in 'good grief Charlie Brown' 

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