I know that my tendency is to write posts when I am having bad days.  I don’t often say much if I’ve had a good day.  So, I thought I would just take a moment to say that today was a good day.  I spent much of yesterday in tears, but those things that were so weighing heavily on me seemed to lighten over night.  It may just be that I slept better, or that my husband cleaned the kitchen for me last night, or that I have peas and tomatoes growing in my garden.  But I like to think that maybe someone prayed for me, maybe God saw how much I needed mercy today, maybe He took my burden and gave me His instead.  In any case, I’ve been reminded of His goodness.  I needed that.

I can’t tell you how many posts I have started writing and then deleted these past few weeks.  I’m trying to figure out how to be honest about life without sounding like I am being histrionic, or like I am seeking pity.  I am fully aware that there are little things that, at times, get magnified to overwhelming proportions in my heart and mind.  I know that emotional struggles are at least partly caused by the ridiculous hormones that wreak havoc on me physically and mentally.  I know that everyone else has problems, too, and that mine are probably no more significant than anyone else’s.  There’s nothing new under the sun, right?

Nevertheless, my days lately have been marked by hopelessness and blindness to the goodness of God.  And regardless of what my personality, or pregnancy hormones…or whatever else…has to do with it, I know the real answer to “why” is that I have an enemy whose job it is to steal, kill, and destroy.  Maybe this is a season of intense warfare.  Perhaps he is really trying extra hard to unravel my faith.  It seems like there are frustrations in almost every area of life…it could be that it’s not just my imagination and we really are being attacked more severely than usual.

Or, maybe I’m just making his job really easy.  I feel weak, and tired, and utterly incapable of fighting these battles right now.  I make my sad attempts at standing on the Word, confessing the promises of God, laying my struggles at the Cross…but then, all too quickly, I abandon these efforts and choose, instead, the easier route of believing what I see, what I feel, what circumstances tell me…which is that I don’t matter to God or anyone else, that I’m too much of a failure for God to intervene on my behalf, that I need to do better at something before I will have earned grace.

Because it isn’t that I think God is incapable of winning these battles for me.  I never really doubt His omnipotence.  I’m certain that He can and will bring victory for everyone else who calls on His name….because His grace is sufficient to present everyone else as righteous before His throne.  It’s a twisted sort of pride that tells me that my sins and imperfections and failings are too extensive for His grace. I can see that.

But, I falter when I feel that way and then search my circumstances for something that I could point to as proof that those feelings are wrong, and I find nothing.  God has been silent, and as far as I can see, absent from my circumstances, though I am straining my eyes to try to find Him.  Where is He in this weakness?  When my strength fails, why can’t I feel Him holding me up?  Why is every prayer left seemingly unanswered and every desire unfulfilled?  I feel abandoned, which is one of the worst feelings in the world to me.

I just don’t understand.  Maybe I will one day.  But right now, today, I wish this wasn’t my portion.  I wish God would, somehow, forget that I’m supposed to be able search for and find Him in the midst of trials, and take it upon Himself to help me see Him when I can’t lift my gaze very high.

I wish I had something insightful to write about.  I kind of wish I could at least say that I’ve been pondering a lot of deep, spiritual things.  The reality is, though, that my brain is in a fog right now…and has been for a while.  I can barely think hard enough to figure out dinner most days, much less carry any train of thought long enough for tackling issues that I might otherwise find engaging.  So, instead of being thought-provoking, I will tell you about life.

I am very thankful for the chill outside today.  It is refreshing, and quite convenient considering the soup I have simmering for dinner that used up many really-needing-to-be-used vegetables.  I am a cool weather person by nature, anyway, and especially so after the hot, humid weather we’ve had recently.

My garden is quite weed-infested.  It’s ugly and discouraging to me.  BUT, most of my vegetable plants seem to be doing well…except perhaps for those that I planted too late for the cool weather they prefer.  My compost-pile pumpkin and tomato plants are huge, with blossoms everywhere.  As much as the weeds bother me, weeding at this point makes me dizzy and exhausted after about five minutes, so I’m trying to just be thankful that plants are growing in spite of me, and hope for the best.

I have gotten very little (read: nothing) done in preparation for the baby that will be joining us in about 2 months.  I realize this, have a moment of panic that things need doing, then lose the realization and the panic in the cloud that is my brain.  This doesn’t bode well for productivity.  In all seriousness, I’m praying God will give me a sound mind.  My “pregnancy brain” has never been this bad before.

I’m anxious about the prospect of starting school with my kids in a few weeks.  I feel unprepared and scattered and like we haven’t managed to find any routine for the rest of life that would make home-life manageable with school work added in.  I definitely need grace.  A good night’s sleep (or two, or three…) might not hurt, either.

We have our camper up for sale…again.  Getting it sold would be a huge stress-reliever around here.

House projects are slow.  I’ve pretty much lost hope for a bathroom remodel happening before the baby comes.  For now, I would be happy to have level floors and safe wiring for some of the outlets and switches we have had to turn off (for instance, I would really love to have a bathroom light again).  I’m hoping those are do-able goals.

Well, my brain is about to quit on me, so that’s about all I’ll write for now.

I started the day today with a bad attitude.  Maybe it had something to do with the heat that makes me nauseous when I attempt to do anything.  Maybe it was because of thoughts I seem incapable of taking captive, or restless sleep, or a messy house, or any of the other frustrations of life that I regularly cite as I plead with God for help…or, perhaps more honestly stated, as I accuse God of not being my ever-present help.  Whatever the reason, though, I was not pleasant…and that’s putting it kindly.

By the time I got around to taking a shower, I really just wanted to hide from life.  So, as I let the cold water (because the thought of taking a hot shower today was pretty much unbearable) drown out the noise of the day, I just cried, and asked God to help me see something other than the ugliness and imperfections of life…and of me.

I would like to say that, in an instant, my perspective changed.  But, really, God has almost never worked that way in me.  I stayed in the shower for as long as I could possibly manage (ie – until children became unruly to the point of needing oversight).  My bad attitude didn’t dissipate into thin air.  But, there were subtle changes…a moment of seeing good in a child in spite of failings, a remembering to hold my tongue rather than letting a harsh word slip out, a willingness to at least try to accomplish something instead of writing off the day.  Mostly, though, there’s just been more of a peace about this day.

It’s not the “answer” I would most prefer…no great revelation or heart-breaking conviction or overwhelming sense of God’s presence…but something much more like a “still, small voice” that I could easily overlook.  I don’t entirely understand why God chose to respond the way He did.  But His response was enough for me for today.  And I am thankful for that.

Some days I just can’t seem to do anything right.  I mess up countless times in countless ways.  Big ways, some of them.  And I can’t see anything good in me.  I feel ugly, inside and out…worthless.  Repentance is mostly avoided in favor of self-pity and I figure God probably doesn’t want me coming to Him anyway.

Then I hear this song and cry my eyes out.  Honestly, I don’t fully believe it.  But, in the midst of hopelessness, it gives me hope.  Hope that maybe the incomprehensible can still be true.  Hope that maybe, somehow, He is able to love what I see as unlovable.

Relationship is important, right?  Having people (even if only a few) who you trust to tell you the truth, hold you accountable, encourage you, rebuke you, genuinely want to be around you…and vice versa…is a desire (need?) that just about every person has.  I suppose it isn’t necessarily uncommon, though, for that yearning to be buried and suppressed by fears or hurts or perhaps myriad other feelings that take precedence in a person’s heart and life.  Isolation is sometimes self-inflicted.

But, sometimes, it’s not.

And it’s hard to be exhorted on the value and necessity of relationship, to try as much as you know how to form relationship, to make efforts that go against the grain of who you are – because who you are is just not good at relationship-building, to walk down every available road presented….and to still be alone.  It’s harder still to feel like others think it’s because you’re not trying.

If it were only that simple.

Life lately has looked like…

…small snippets of time in the garden, trying to make some dent in the weeds.  It mostly seems to be a fruitless endeavor, but we have plants growing nonetheless.  Everything we planted except for cauliflower and peppers have at least sprouted.  While this is far from a guarantee they will actually produce anything edible, I am always amazed at how clearly gardens reveal God’s creativity and provision (to me, anyway).

…a kitchen that is slightly torn-apart.  Believe it or not, this is a necessary step to remodeling our upstairs bathroom…something to do with a header that needs to be added to the kitchen ceiling, before we can jack up the floor(s) and put new support posts in the basement so that we no longer have slanted floors in our upstairs…which we would like done before remodeling the bathroom (which includes moving a wall) so that we can have proper measurements and angles and such.

…the discovery of [more] faulty wiring in the house (thanks to the mild bit of demolition in the kitchen), which has resulted in yet another circuit being switched off for the time being.  This means our entire upstairs has about one outlet that works and our kitchen has one outlet and just the light over the sink.  Tim has always said he would have liked to live a hundred years ago, so I joke that we’re living more and more like people did then all the time ;).  I think I would have to draw the line at chamber pots, though.

…lots of thinking about God’s expectations of me, and realizing how little they actually have to do with me.  I can’t say I love the frequent reminders that have come lately about how self-centered I really am, and how God-centered I tend to not be, but they are obviously needed, so I am thankful for them.

…trying to clean my house.  It’s slow.  I’m trying to set realistic expectations so that I can maintain motivation from day-to-day.  This means I get about one room really clean each day.  I’m not sure how that works for a long-term goal of keeping the whole house clean, but it’s a start.

…mentally preparing for starting the next school year in about a month.  I had hoped to get a jump start on phonics with Nathanael before then, but I’m not sure if that will happen…even with his frequent requests to do so.

…lots of baseball practices and games.  We tend to just take everyone to all of them.  It may be more effort than it’s worth, but by the time 6pm rolls around, the thought of being outside seems so much more pleasant than being inside doing something productive, that we go.  It has its fun moments.

…getting big, and not just my belly.  It always happens, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it, right?  I just remind myself that there’s a good reason for it all, and will try to continue to remind myself for the 18 months or so after delivery it will take me to get not big again.

…looking forward to 3 months from now (or so) when I will have a precious new baby in my arms.  There’s a lot to get done between now and then…most of which I don’t remember on any kind of normal basis because my brain is functioning at about half its normal capacity…but even if things don’t quite get done “in time”, I’m pretty sure the baby won’t know or care.

And, that’s life.