Welcome Home, Sis! Come On In & Stay for a While.

“I sat with a therapist and desperately wanted to allow myself to feel.

Feel every raw feeling I have that seems to invade and hijack my thoughts in the wee hours of the night. I wanted to tell her that I felt like my heart was bleeding. I wanted to tell her that I felt crushed under the weight of parenting my children, serving my husband, managing my home, and still trying to find time for myself. …I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

So, I sat there giving all the right answers, at all the right times. Because in my head, I know what to say, and how to say it. Yet, in the core of my being, I’m struggling. Could she see through my act? Maybe. But I sure made it hard.

See, as badly as I desire to be open and vulnerable there is such a strong temptation to stick my pain neatly into a box, and tie a pretty bow around it.

But the struggle is not that way. It’s a process. An enduring saga that balances between frustration, grief, and grace.

So often we pressure ourselves into arriving on the other side of the struggle; not wanting to accept or to reveal that we are still standing in the middle of it.

Can you relate to this?: How many times have you been having one of those days/weeks/months, yet you clean up nice and put a grin on that says “Everything is fine.” Everything in you may be hurting, but instead of exposing yourself, you slap on a “I’m too blessed to be stressed” band-aid, and keep it moving.

Perhaps we gather people don’t really want to know, or they wouldn’t understand. Perhaps we fear being left there in the cold, naked, and vulnerable with someone who pats us on the shoulder, rambles of a catchy scripture, and tells us to “Hang in there.”

There is nothing more vulnerable then admitting to being stuck in a valley.

Because it’s far easier for us to tell people about the struggles we have overcome, then to talk about the struggles we are still facing.

So let me be the first to tell you: Ain’t no pretty bows on this box. Over 5 years of marriage and motherhood and most days I still feel like I don’t know what the hell I am doing. Ebbing and flowing somewhere between a raging lunatic and a spirit-filled prayer warrior.

But here is the Good News, friends. The Lord is gracious and merciful.

When we expose our deep-seeded issues to Him, he walks with us through our darkest hours. He doesn’t stand on the outside, window washing us with cliche phrases, or ‘catch-all’ scriptures. He enters in, behind the door, where its vulnerable, unkept, broken, and messy. And he sits with us, dines with us, and ever so gently, piece by piece, restores us from the inside out.

So, it’s ok.

 It’s okay to not be there yet.

It’s ok to not be ok sometimes.

Let yourself go there. Acknowledge and process your pain and your frustration. But do so on your knees. Do so under the covering and presence of Jesus. Go ahead. Lose your cool. He can handle it. Allow yourself. And realize that you won’t always be there and by His grace you will reach the other side of your struggle. Don’t rush it. Just be with Him. Let Him gently, slowly wash over your again with his loving kindness, acceptance, and rivers of…Grace

My grace is enough; it’s all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

Swim in his grace.

 

 

Written by

Tania is the founder and editor of Inkfully. She is a wife and stay at home mom of three beautiful children. Outside of these two awesome roles, there is nothing that brings her more joy than encouraging and reminding others that they aren't alone. Even if that means exposing her past, or making herself the expense of your good laugh. You can find her perusing playgrounds with her hubby & toddlers or writing in coffee shops around Seattle, WA.

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  • You give me so much life!! Thank you for sharing!!

    • inkfully

      Thank youuuuu!!

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