Brutal honesty

I'm sitting here at the computer feeling completely heart broken. Indiana was not what I expected. The job was great, the weather was perfect, and the kids are adorable. But being here is not working. After many exchanges of e-mails with my brother and his gf this week, I decided I had worn out my welcome and it was time I moved on. It breaks my heart to leave. It breaks my heart to know that the kids have to sort through another disappointment. And it breaks my heart that I have become a point of tension within the house. Yet, the fact remains that it is. My hands are tied from helping in the ways I long to help, and I can do nothing about it.
After 4 hours of sleep last night I went in to work and promptly went to talk with my boss. He was gracious to understand the situation. He could see in my eyes that I was done, that I was ready to leave today if possible and that I was miserable. So I finished out the day, announced that I was heading back to Texas and cleaned out my desk. I have never cried so much in a 24 hour period as I have since yesterday evening.
I feel that I have given up. I feel that I have failed. I feel that I have been beating against the air. I am tired. I am confused. And I ache for home. I feel that I am caught in the middle of a bad dream and no matter how hard I try I can't wake up. I can't leave it. And what breaks my heart more is that even though I can walk away from it, I can go home and "move on," the kids can't. They didn't ask for this. They didn't choose it. And yet they know nothing else. This is their life. And I can't help but feeling selfish for leaving them here.
It makes me mad. It makes me want to cry. (Okay, I already am crying) It makes me want to throw things. It makes me want to scream. But I resolve to cry to God. To take my pain to the cross and let the blood of the Lamb cover it all. One day it will all be washed anew. One day we will see God's glory here. But in the mean time it's confusing. And I don't understand it.

A few days ago Grace drew me some pictures for me to decorate my office with. Yesterday I was pulling them out of my bag to hang up and came across an old poem/prayer that I wrote last semester. It was in reflection of Exodus 17 where God made water flow from a rock.


Lord, we cry out to You:
"Are You in our midst?"
We look and we do not find.
We search and we come up empty.
We are thirsty;
There is no water.
We are weary;
There is no rest.

Yet, you remain.
You always remain.
Faithful, true, just.
And let us not forget Your grace.
Your grace –
That turns rock into water.
Your grace –
That gives rest to weary souls.
Remind us again
That You always remain in our midst.


I am amazed at how many times I find God right where I don't expect Him. Right where I need Him most. And right where my heart is longing the most. I've learned recently to find God in the little things. The hugs from a 4 year old arms at the end of a long day. The laughter of a 6 year old enthralled with the beauty of a flower. The compassionate hearts of coworkers. A boyfriend and family who have listened to me cry over the phone at all hours of the night.
And yet, I'm at a loss of words when I realize that God's provision did not start in me seeing those things. God's provision for now began long before I could even conceive the need. I am suddenly reminded that this is not about me. It is not about what I can do or currently do for the kingdom, God, or even myself. But it is how God is forming all things – things long ago and things present for His glory. He is not finished here. (He keeps reminding me of this.) He is making ALL things new. And it is not my job to make them new, it is simply my job to sit at the feet of the King and gaze into His magnificent eyes. He will do the rest.

So, be encouraged all you who are weary. Be encouraged all you who are lonely. God is a God of redemption. A God of salvation. And a God of joy. Let us rest and enjoy those today.

Until He comes or calls.