seek trust rather than understanding

Seek trust rather than understanding. Those are the words I've been hearing for weeks now.

I can't seem to shake them. But they are definitely shaking me.

Because I want to understand.

I want to know why. I want to see what's next. I desire answers and direction and clarity. I want things to make sense.

But God keeps reminding me that it's not for me to understand. It's only for me to trust.

He is calling me to trust Him when I can trust no one else.

To trust in His trustworthiness even though it doesn't play out the way I want it to or think it should.

To trust His heart even when I can't see His hand.

To trust in His constant unchanging character even when He seems inconsistent.

It's not for me to know or to figure it all out or to see clearer. It's not for me to have answers or confidence or surety. It's not for me to understand.

It's only for me to trust.

cherry on top

I spent a lot of time in the car yesterday. All the snow turned twenty-minute distances into hour-long ones. Living in Africa, I don't often get the chance to drive in a snowstorm. So I actually didn't mind it---honestly, I kind of enjoyed it. I decided I wanted some hot frothy goodness for my now-an-hour drive home. I fishtailed my way through the unplowed Starbucks drive-thru. And when I got to the pick-up window, I was greeted by this:

The mini-me snowman, accessorized with coffee bean eyes and buttons, was the cherry on top of the best day I've had in a while.

What was the cherry on top of your yesterday?

spilling my guts

Now that my self-assigned writing project is over, I'm afraid of the direction my blog may go if I write what's on my mind and heart. So I'm trying to find the balance of being authentic and not letting the Grit morph into something I don't want it to be.

That being said, I know I need to start the new year off with a good dose of honesty. Brace yourself.

Like the earth after a drought, I'm finding I quickly soak up the love that's lavished on me, and then---just as quickly---it disappears. I don't doubt the sincerity of those who love me, it's just that it all rapidly sinks deep into the parched recesses of my heart, and the rest stays cracked and dry.

I guess that means my love tank ran empty. I've been running on empty for a long time.

I feel unloved and unwanted. Worse, I feel unlovable and unwantable. I'm trying to not believe those lies, but nine times out of ten, I do.

I've been advised not to worry too much about battling my fears of co-dependency right now. Because I'm in a place where I genuinely need people and need to allow myself to rely on them. The realization of all those things pretty much overwhelms me.

But deep down, I know this much is true: I was not created to be an island. It is okay healthy for me to crave connection and community. There is nothing wrong with a season of being the care taker rather than the caretaker. (That's confusing, but let that sink in a bit.)

I'm not at all saying any of this to invoke compliments or anything like that. So please don't. I just knew I needed to be honest with where I'm at, both with myself and with you.

Thanks for continuing to care about this gritty heart of mine, and being willing to read what comes out of it. That means a heck of a whole lot.

twenty-three: hours to remember

I was in counseling for an hour today. I used a few of the remaining twenty-three hours to look back over some of my previous blog posts. I gain so much insight---and even sometimes get a good kick in the rear---when I take the time to revisit things God has spoken to me. Two old posts really resonated with my heart when I stumbled back upon them. Here are some snippets, since they're worth repeating. (You can read the full originals here and here if you're interested.)

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Take all of me with Your gentle hands.

Even when I feel I can only open the door an inch, this is me giving You permission to bust it wide open. Even when I feel I’m unable to offer You more of me, this is me asking You to go ahead and take it anyway. Even when I feel I have no words, this is me asking You to respond to my one-word prayers for “Help” with all You know I need.

Be aggressive with me. For I’m not aggressive enough on my own behalf.

::

God’s heart breaks for my broken heart. He loves me that much. His compassion is that far-reaching. His grace is that incomprehensible. God’s heart hurts for my hurting heart.

The King of the Universe aches for me. The God who spread out the expanse of the sky, flung the stars into place, set the sun in its perfect position, and carefully placed the moon to simply reflect a light not its own… This God also reaches out to me, pulls me onto His lap, wraps His arms around me, holds me tighter than I realize I need, and refuses to let me go.

He weeps with me.

He doesn’t say much; He doesn’t need to. He certainly doesn’t feed me ridiculous clichés: “Smile, I love you.” “I work in mysterious ways.” “When I close a door, I open a window.” “Let go and let Me.”

His tears say enough. They tell me He understands. He cares. He sees my hurting heart and He holds it in the palm of His hand. And He holds it ever-so-gently.

::

I am so glad God promises to be close to the brokenhearted...