Words to keyboard to blog post come hesitantly these days and I wonder, why not just end it, why not just give it up? Is it just another commitment; another thing to do while children grow like weeds into pants an inch too short and the eldest daughter sprouts lovelier and lovelier by the day?
Why force my thoughts into acceptable words, double check that I haven't left any cause to offend anyone, make sure to keep a little left out, that bit of the sacred that belongs to just us as a family, and wonder still: what do I possibly have to share that isn't drivel?
Every year our church has a time of fasting and prayer set aside in January. In what is typically and without fail the bleakest and darkest time in our surrounding environment, we view the darkness and bleakness in ourselves and plead our souls His light.
Our children have LED flashlights they received as gifts and these flashlights, it seems, are invaluable on a homestead. They routinely search out a wayward turkey roosting in the drain ditch, or the torn up old garden, or on a fence, or anywhere but in the coop where she should be. They shine in my face in the middle of the night, held by a child taking a bathroom trip, highlight the cobwebs strung across the basement beams, seek a hider in a closet, or find unmentionable atrocities underneath the sofa while in search of a small missing shoe.
God's light is like this in my life right now. There is a lot of searching and sorting through my heart, shaking and sifting, leading and guiding, putting things as they should be, sweeping out of those unmentionable atrocities from underneath the sofa of my soul.
I feel His spirit saying:
while this inner house of mine is searched and rumbled and shaken about.
I am comforted by knowing that it is Jesus at work in me, sorting out junk and scrubbing floors caked with crud and finding old shoes and ill fitting dresses in dark closets, which may sound cliche, depending on one's background, but is the solid, strong truth of things in this season. I'm beginning to feel like one feels after a good, solid cry and the gasping for air and shaking shoulders and snot running is gone and there is that huge, amazing feeling of relief and a brighter outlook is shimmy-ing over the morning hill in rose and yellow hues splayed across the sky.
Well, honestly, maybe I'm still at the wiping snot stage but I see those pretty hues rising.
Thank you, for frequenting this little nook of mine. I don't know that I like what it is and I don't know what it will be but you're welcome to hang on for the ride.