I awoke tonight and have been finding that while it makes the day long these night hours are becoming a treasure... time spent is worth sleep missed... as long as I pace myself... I can't take this time in the night if in return I then lack the strength to be the mom I hunger to be and so I am learning a new what rest and time mean in the eyes of my Creator.... His time scale... His pace.... His time.... and to submit to times of rest even during the day..... house might not look like one from Homes and Gardens and yet I must say that I don't think I'll care in the years to come how many days laundry didn't get done... or the dishes were in the sink.... My God, my husband, my children, my community... my writing... to those ends I pace myself....
But tonight... tonight in all His grace I could see where He was leading and yet this time the knee jerk reaction wasn't to say "Oh please let's not go there..." and as I heard Him express how to write it and saw the words formulating into phrases I gained courage... and while I have written around this subject I never fully dove in.... afraid of the stigma... afraid of the thoughts and opinions of others.... I would write around it but never bluntly say the words... maybe you think I have but I know my heart and I haven't ....
And this is now my journey.... back into vunerability... back into discovering my voice... breaking the back bone of shame... breaking the back bone of fear... and stepping into a place I have run from............
He knit me together in my mother's womb but would He knit me back together..... so horrified by the reality of where my mind and my life were and yet what I had to do..... a wife, a mom, a lover of God and yet so fragmented.... laying on the fouton there and not being able to get up.... how could I be here while there was so much still to be done in my children's lives... how could I feel this burned out as a mom.. this broken as a human being.... and I was glued to that fouton not able to move and horrified that I was going to fail at the jobs that I wanted my heart to care about......
He did knit me together and He did tear down and then He recreated..... the pot had had an air bubble in it and the fire would have left it broken and cracked.... so smashing that piece of formed yet not hardened clay was His only choice.. but He waited on mine...... Would I trust Him? Would I lay my life at His feet? The bones were already there... a pile of them..... But not yet a will..... But a choice was made.... a piece of clay was pushed back together to become a ball and He began to reform that which He knew I would always become....
My mind and heart were broken...... My will shattered... But that was not to be the end of my story
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