Wednesday, December 02, 2009

in need of a holy toothbrush

Due to a number of factors and a conversation or two, the past week has brought me to my knees with the realization of how very little I can achieve or be on my own, in and of myself.

I am feeling many things - which I will not list for you here, lest you start looking for the black balloons and gloomy gray streamers of my own personal pity party.

I don't know what others would think - and it doesn't really matter. As people, we tend to help others justify behavior that is less than holy, because it is "understandable" or because we know we do it ourselves and we'd like to escape judgment when it happens. Other people might tell me I'm doing fine - especially for a sleep-deprived nursing mama of two kiddos under age two.

But I don't want to be justified by people. I want to know what God thinks of me today.

This is one of those times when I really wish that God had a face and a body and could sit next to me on the couch and hold my hand and answer my questions directly and TELL ME what to do.

I wonder if it would be a time for tough love - for exhortation and a reminder of His glory and His standards and His call to the kind of life He wants me to live -to do everything without complaining, to be blameless and pure, Proverbs 31...

Or would it be a time for grace - for taking care of this Mama, for reminding me that He sees me clean and new because of Christ, for a thick layer of unending, incomprehensible unconditional love?

Or both?

I don't know. And so I pray, I read His word, I ask others to pray for me... but still, a part of my brain wishes so badly that God could knock on my door and be with me in a tangible way.

The taste of failure is in my mouth today - it is sharp and bitter. I don't want it to linger, but it's presence is a wake-up of sorts. If it had never appeared, I probably wouldn't be seeking Him so strongly today. I would be thinking of the things I had to do, and thinking of how well I was doing them.

Instead, today I am praying that His word and His presence would rinse that taste from my mouth - that I might turn toward Him and begin climbing back up the hill. And that in equal measure of high standards and grace, I would reach the end of my day with a contented heart.

2 thoughts:

Jamie Wetzel said...
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Jamie Wetzel said...

Great thoughts, Katie...