OMG. Can I get a show of hands for those who have cried today? Yesterday? Last week? You guys. Seriously, I can’t stop. And when I’m not crying, I’m irritable af. Please tell me I’m not alone here.
I’ve been praying that God would break my heart for what breaks His. Helpful Hint from Heather, don’t do that because he will.
I can’t watch the news. I can’t scroll Facebook or Insta. I. Just. Can’t.
The death of Geroge Floyd. The riots downtown, I mean, not some far off place but downtown! A stinkin’ curfew? My 14-year-old son.
I know I’m not alone in this. We are all feeling this (please tell me I’m right.)
Perhaps I’m moving through the stages of grief. And now I’m flat out depressed. We can’t keep living like this. What is my kid supposed to do all summer long without the things that he does? No swim team, the pools are closed, and his Insta feed is filling up with hate and outrage. We are oppressed, depressed, and obsessed.
What do we do with this sadness and irritability? The only thing I know to do is pray. Sometimes I don’t want to do that, so then what?
Breathe. Wait. Cry. Wait. Watch some mindless tv. Cry some more. Wait some more.
My mom has a sign in her shop. Her dear friend Sue, who has since passed away, wrote on a piece of matboard, “While we wait, God is at work.”
Is he, though? Faith says he is. Faith sings in the night, knowing that joy comes in with the rising of the sun.
Sometimes my faith is enormous like I’m ensconced in a fluffy white cloud, floating above all the misery. Sometimes my faith is small, like me. My emotions get so big they hold me hostage. The yogis always say we need to open our hearts. My heart hurts. I don’t want to open it anymore.
Take a deep breath and let it go.
We have no other option. I have tried the way of no faith, closed heart, and self-sufficiency. It led me to a hopelessly dark period of despair. I have tried the way of faith and an open heart. It has led me to freedom through reliance on an Intelligence more fabulous than my imagination.
So today, just for today. Let us surrender our fanciful notions of self-sufficiency and lean on Something more significant than ourselves. I like to picture myself crawling up into my daddy’s lap. My Sky Daddy strokes my unruly frizz and says everything is going to be alright; I believe him.
Just for Today
I’m going to accept my sadness. AND I’m going to continue to trust in Sky Dad. AND I’m going to take another breath.
Sky Dad, make this all better.