The Steadfast Heart

My account of the last year could easily be lost in the millions that could be told. There are books to be filled on the events that rocked the world in 2020 and beyond. I don’t claim to signify that my experience holds any weight by comparison to the year we can’t forget. What I do know is I was under a dark, dismal cloud for months that took more out of my soul than I should’ve allowed. It caused a restlessness inside of me that I couldn’t get under control and a defensive spirit to follow my every thought like a shadow. Until grace weaved its way into my story six months ago.

As I had hoped for the holidays to return us to normalcy, the world around me started to shut down again as case counts rose. Thanksgiving for my family was spent in an aunt’s garage with masks and heated blankets. Given the circumstances, it couldn’t have been sweeter, but I missed the familiarity of being with our immediate family. I longed for closeness with my friends that felt on days as if it would never come. And while not every day felt heavy, changing holiday plans was the catalyst for the deviating disappointments that created a negative narrative in my mind.

The recurring messages that slowly crept into my thoughts during the long winter months were that I was always somewhere between too much or never enough for people. That I had made decisions in my life that were actually mistakes and that’s how I got myself into each mess I found myself in. That I wasn’t worth getting to know or people that did get to know me would get tired of me, it’d only be a matter of time. That reciprocity didn’t exist in relationships. That I had lost my creativity, my value, and my significance and that’s why it seemed like I was failing in my parenting, my job, my marriage, my friendships – you name it, I had the reverse of a Midas touch on it.

Through the hard moments of clinging to my 11 month old in the emergency room with his blood staining my crewneck one Sunday morning, to going 12 days without hot water during the coldest temperatures of the winter, to nights when I went to bed wondering if I had what it took to be a bearable wife that stretched to anxious mornings of fearing I was the worst parent no matter what happened that day. I ran on little sleep and on most days, even smaller faith. Life reached an incredible low when I truly believed that I had nothing to look forward to because something was bound to go wrong no matter what I did.

In light of all of my wariness, the amazing thing I can’t get over is that I made it through every single day of those six months, solely on the grace of God. There were people and moments that carried me through what I felt were some of the darkest months of my entire life. He gave me favor with people during that time that provided the hope I was desperate for. Family traveled hours just to step into our chaotic world on all the right weekends. Meals were brought when I couldn’t think past the next 5 minutes, let alone what to make for dinner. Showers were provided for us when we didn’t have warm enough water. A friend would call me to give a pep talk or to make me laugh when she knew I needed the levity. A neighbor would help me finish shoveling the driveway. These minor moments then have major meaning to me now.

It took months for me to see that my circumstances didn’t stop Jesus from wading into my worry, my shame, my hurt, and all of my striving for control. It took several walks around the block and hours of tearful conversation one Wednesday night in April with my parents for me to recognize the gravity of what my thoughts had done to my life. All of my internal wrestling took on external despair in my world and I had finally collapsed under the weight of my own undoing. What the Holy Spirit started to impress on me was that I had let the enemy reign in my mind and he was vying to destroy my heart. For the first time since before I could even remember, breakthrough was happening at the core of who I was becoming.

From that weekend home and for the next several weeks, I began to experience redemption in relationships that had nothing to do with any of my own efforts. Gratitude came as easy as breathing. The amount of encouragement that came my way felt unwarranted. The thoughtfulness of people astounded me and uplifted me higher than I thought I could go. The best way I know how to describe the immense amount of joy I was experiencing was as if I was thirsty and was drinking from a fire hydrant of absolute grace. It was as if I couldn’t keep up trying to reciprocate the goodwill I was receiving. In quiet moments as I collected thoughts for myself on paper, it occurred to me that this was the closest I have ever experienced to wholeness in my entire life. This was the nearest I have ever been to feeling fully known and fully understood in all of my life, not just by people on earth, but by my Father in heaven.

As I realized this, emotion crashed over me because I was convinced that I would never experience what it felt to be whole on this side of heaven. I didn’t believe I was favored by God enough to feel fully seen for who I am, flaws and all and to believe I’m accepted during my lifetime. And for 3 weeks, he let me experience his fullness. His grace. His truth. I wasn’t sinless, but I was finding out what it meant to be made new. To have exposure to full on transformation and not just minor tweaking in my life. How amazing it was that he showed his character to me when I least expected it and certainly had not earned it.

Like I had expected, the elation that came easy eventually dwindled. In a matter of weeks, several of my dearest family members announced they would be moving across several states by summer, all in different directions. Both of my little boys started to act out more strongly than they had been. I fell behind with work again and found myself frustrated with communication gaps. The favor I had held with several friends faded. Things I tried to accomplish started to go sideways. And so quickly, I found myself wrapping my identity back up in all of the things I tried to hold so tightly together. On the outside, while I have been trying to control my image in the eyes of the small audience that watches my life unfold, I realize that all of my efforts are meaningless without inviting Jesus into my introspection.

Because the truth is, his desire for my life is to be whole. I just misunderstood wholeness for what it really is: Jesus’s grace working its way through my thoughts, actions, and identity to where I joyfully surrender the lie that life is up to me. When I live out of the grace of what the cross meant for my life, wholeness is possible. Unity with the Holy Spirit can be my reality and gratitude starts leaping off the pages of my story!

There’s no real way to summarize the work progress that I’m in, but what I can say is that I am listening on a deeper level when the Lord says to take every thought captive. I am singing with greater grit and conviction when the song says that I will be content in every circumstance because He’s always enough. I have a longing to fully know Jesus in the way I experienced him wholly knowing the intricacies of me.

Tomorrow when I wake up, I may have to fight the anxiety of not knowing if the world wants to know me. I may have to fight the lie that I’m a bad parent because my child keeps repeating the same behavior. I may have to grow character by applying myself to a task I don’t feel like doing.

The unknown will always be there. The dark days may threaten to steal my joy again. But like they say, doubt is easy. It’s the faith that takes effort. And I’ll be ready to put in my very best work.

Take care & take heart,