I’m still here. Just feeling a gloomy shade of grey these days.
There is no overwhelming tragedy, no disaster looming. Just the particulars of an Army life.
Moving …. again.
Saying goodbye …. again.
Hearing the J girl talking in a mournful voice about saying goodbye. Breaking my heart.
The one hundred and one million details to be attended to.
It adds up to twisty stomach and days in the trenches. And less motivation to write.
Don’t get me wrong – in the grand scheme, in the master plan, my life is an absolute joy, a blessing, and God gives me grace to see the beauty and to live gratitude on a (near) daily basis. I wouldn’t trade this life or my littles for all the world.
However, the weeks before we leave – June 10th!!! – are always the most difficult. I am weary and sad and emotional. I know God is good. I know He will provide restorative community wherever we are sent. I know He is working all things for the good of those who love Him. There are many things to rejoice over in our new home. Now if I could force that knowledge heartward, to shape my emotions and gird my soul.
I didn’t have much to write about. In these moments, I feel like I have nothing to say. No one wants to hear me whine. And as previously mentioned, I am blessed beyond reason or merit so complaining about my temporary trouble is selfish, myopic, and horribly ungrateful.
I secretly want everyone to think that I am brave and faithful and calm and moving through the chaos with equanimity and grace. If you’ve known me more than two seconds you know that it is categorically untrue 99% of the time. It’s what I aspire to, but always often fail to attain. So I didn’t write, because I have not been any of those things.
On Sunday, we were singing a song – “All I Have” by Nathan Partain – it was new to me. Sort of tuned out, my to-do list on repeat scrolling endlessly through my brain. Then, these words drew me in.
“The gospel is all I have. The gospel is all I have. No courage, no virtuous, bold use of faith. The gospel is all I have.”
Ohhhhh. Once again, it’s not about me. Not about what I can do or what I want people to think I can do. All I have, all I need. To be un-grey, to be joyful even in this. Just a little reminder, a little shaking loose, unsticking from the mire that lines the trenches.
And in case that didn’t stick, as I was reading the Psalms this am, I came across this ….
“But I will hope continually, and will praise You yet more and more. My mouth shall tell of Your righteousness and Your salvation all the day, for I do not know their limits” (Psalm 71:14-15, NKJV).
Yes. Yes! His grace and mercy in my life is limitless ….
So I am not courageous. Or virtuously faithful. Or calm and graceful or any of those things.
But I am confident, joyful even, in the inescapable fact that as I long as I draw breath, for as long as I traverse this mortal coil …. I will never, EVER see the end of the life-giving, soul charging, transforming power of the gospel.
How, how can I mope around grey and gloomy with that staring me in the face. Oh right. I CAN’T.
~M.