Life is hard. Life is hard. Life is hard.
I wish I could find a better mantra. Like, God is good. Or Christ is enough. Or live sacrificially. Or set your expectations low.
Because all of those sound more hopeful than “life is hard”. But life is hard. Things are broken and only breaking more, and yes, there are moments that are full of beauty and life, that cause you to stop and smile and know, really know that you are loved. And maybe those are the moments we’re to pursue. But those moments are largely outnumbered by all of our other moments that are begging us to find a point. A point for continuing on when it’s all so hard.
As a Christian, I’ve felt like my point needs to be something along the lines of those previous mantras. You know. . . God is good. Trust Him. He is working things out. He loves his children perfectly. I thought that those truths we’re supposed to make me feel better when things get hard. But things get hard and I reflect on those truths and they don’t make me feel better. Which originally made me start questioning where I’ve put my faith, and though yes, it is more often than I’d like to admit, in other things- such as my own sufficiency- my faith is still grounded in truth. And I still believe that truth to be from the God of the bible. He is still my God.
I’ve been confused by my God so I’ve been calling life a mess. A mess in which, one moment you could be crying with a friend because she is struggling to pay her bills as a single mom and now has to face the possibility of being diagnosed with a potentially debilitating disease, and the next moment you’re holding a sleeping infant, who, in your more tranquil moments you swear you can feel possibility emanating from; his tiny unscarred self an embodiment of hope and promise. That just sounds like a mess doesn’t it? How does one live in that tension? How does one begin to understand and trust a God who creates and sustains life, and who also doesn’t give rest to the weary when they swear, by all accounts, they truly need it?
I recently heard a pastor say that we so often act like if we have enough faith in Christ, we don’t need to be like Him. Which reminded me that Christ suffered. So much. We often cite Christ’s suffering with flippancy, as if because He is God, his human suffering wasn’t really suffering. Wasn’t suffering like ours is. But I think that faced with the same scenarios, Jesus would be sad with my friend. Frustrated along side her. Maybe even angry as she is angry. And likewise, I think He would be overjoyed to hold a newborn. Delighted even, at the hope and possibility created with new life.
My faith in Christ gives me freedom to be like Him. And like Him, I live in the tension that is life. The tension that is this in-between. Where I get to see God’s miracles manifested, and where I have to see man’s fallible ways, all while waiting to just be home. Waiting with purpose and intent, not detached or withdrawn, but present and fully human.
I’m truly moved by your deep thoughts and feelings, so many I’ve had myself. I wish I could take away your struggles and sadness. I love you. I think of you so much more than you could ever know…and I so completely love and miss you. I remember holding you as an infant and our eyes meeting…the world just stopped. I’ve never felt anything like that, and feel that connection with you to this day.
Rest…rest my Baby. And keep on writing these amazing blogs…AMAZING! You are an old soul.