Trust, a dichotomy, and life is messy, y'all.

There is this notebook I have, with gold letters on the front that reads “best day ever” it is cut up and scarred on the front (*ahem I may have left in in the car on a cold day with a bottle of kombucha – that was fun to clean up.) I keep it in my car, and I fill it with my words (of which there are many, most of them ridiculous) while I drink chai tea that gets cold so much faster than I can drink it. The gold edged pages of this notebook have been filled with a lot of questions lately (well, always) but I have begun to notice a pattern to my questions; a place I am struggling to understand.

I sit in guilt as equally as I sit in forgiveness, walking with a weight as much as I am fully free. Trying so hard to reconcile the two parts of my head and my heart. Asking – is this what the journey should look like? Is this the light burden that is spoken of Matthew? As acknowledging my delinquency in equal amount I believe my pardon. I raise my hands, and with closed eyes I sing “You are good, and I am free. I am free.” – the whole time self-recrimination rings in my ears. I repent because I believe in the freedom I am offered, but can I sing with enough passion to drown out my own mind?

Don’t misunderstand, I am not sitting in hopelessness, well not anymore than I sit in complete hope. I sit in both. Is that even possible? That is the dichotomy that I struggle with and I wonder about. I know the words, the verses, the answers, but still question the normalcy of my own head and heart. Is that the journey, do you suppose - finding balance and peace with the two?

 I never used to wonder, you know. Never used to question, I KNEW. I knew I was worthless, but He died for me. I knew that there was nothing good in me, but He died for me. Love is where it gets messy though (isn’t it always!?). At a very specific moment in my past, I remember sitting on my kitchen floor, surrounded by these beautiful, exhausting tiny humans that have been given to me, sobbing because I did not know if God loved me, did not even know if I believed he existed. In those moments I know he shows up – because that is what he has always done, what he has done for me.

I specifically remember him calling out “Beloved” to me (now, that sounds a little happy-clappy charismatic for this born Independent Fundamental Baptist, but hey – I’m a lot more Charismatic than many who love me would be ok with me admitting.) If I am His beloved – if that is the name he calls me, when I am most heartbroken – then He must love me – and from what I know of love that means he loves all of me. I am still learning this, I know, making it a part of who he made me to be, allowing him to weave it in and out of the tapestry of my life, but knowing this, letting it wrap around my heart also opened my heart to so much more. To more love? Oh yes. To more family? So much, y’all. But also to more messiness.

  Like most mommas out there, messiness is not my favourite thing – for the most part it makes life harder. Stepping on a Lego – well they don’t warn you about that one when they hand you your perfectly wrinkled little baby, do they? There is a beauty in it sometimes though – in how driftwood shifts and changes along the ocean, in the bits and pieces of construction paper left after making paper snowflakes, in handprints on the wall.  Those messes? That is where you see evidence of life, of love.

Too, there is a certain kind of messiness that comes along with submission to Him and his guiding. In his love of us he asks for probably the hardest thing, to submit control of how we’d like life to go, of our plans, thoughts and ideas to his guiding each step. Submission is never a one and done, “Here you are, God. I submit this to you.” Well, its not for me anyways. I find I often submit to the lesson I am being taught in layers, often submit my will, part A…”oh, you want part B, too? And part C? can I just keep this little wish I have right here? Please? No? pretty please?” but as He speaks to you of submitting what you are holding, and reveals more areas that need to be passed into his hands – he also opens up a greater capacity for you to trust in Him. And of all my ponderings, all my questions, and doubts – I’m guessing that’s the journey. Facing the dichotomy inside my own heart and mind yet choosing to run after him anyways.  

-xo, Courtney