I wrote this on Saturday morning in my journal and I'm finally getting around to sharing it now.
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It is 5:45 in the morning. I am in a hotel in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I should be sleeping, but I can't.
The sounds of two of my children breathing deeply as they sleep fill the air. I am lighting the page on which I write with the glow of my cell phone so as not to disturb said sleeping children.
I was laying here, trying to get back to sleep, when I heard that still, small voice say something to me that triggered a barrage of thoughts. I had to start writing it down to make it stop. God does this to me frequently, he gives me words when I'm trying to fall asleep or he wakes up in the middle of the night. It is really quite annoying. The times that I have the clarity and the worlds to write are all of the times when writing is incredibly inconvenient.
I was thinking about how much easier life is without our two year old around, with two rather than three children. You see, we only have the "older" two along for a weekend road trip to St. Louis for a wedding. Two compared to the three that we have is a walk in the park. It isn't because I love my little Oskar pants any less than I love the other two, no, I love that kid to pieces. How could you not love a kid who follows me around saying, "I want hold you", has been nicknamed Browser for his eyebrow acrobatics and has his own signature dance move called "The Creep"? He is so lovable and silly and I miss him dearly, and yet, I welcome the break.
Sometimes, being responsible for a five, four and two year old is just too much. Quiet is hard to come by and time to myself is infrequent.
My mind is constantly in motion. Constantly thinking, analyzing and dreaming up something. When I don't have time to be alone with my thoughts, anything else seems like too much. Such is the life of an introvert.
Sometimes, at the end of the day, when I am trying to work something out in my head, or trying to get something done, the "I want hold you" becomes too much.
Sometimes, when I actually have a chance to be alone with my thoughts, talking to God is just too much. It doesn't mean that I don't love God and that he isn't important to me. It doesn't mean that he requires as much from me as my two year old does, but sometimes, I make it that way.
My mind is constantly in motion. Constantly thinking, analyzing and dreaming up something. When I don't have time to be alone with my thoughts, anything else seems like too much. Such is the life of an introvert.
Sometimes, at the end of the day, when I am trying to work something out in my head, or trying to get something done, the "I want hold you" becomes too much.
Sometimes, when I actually have a chance to be alone with my thoughts, talking to God is just too much. It doesn't mean that I don't love God and that he isn't important to me. It doesn't mean that he requires as much from me as my two year old does, but sometimes, I make it that way.
Sometimes, at the end of the day, the time when God calls me to find my rest in him, I push him away, because his goodness is just too much. Resting in him would mean diving back into those thoughts, dodging bullets to pull together a coherent thought and actually produce something of substance worthy enough to speak to him…and that is just too much.
But this isn't God's requirement, this is my self-contrived expectation of who God wants me to be, which happens to be false.
What I heard God so clearly say to me this morning is, "I want to hold you. Nothing more." Sometimes, at the end of the day, God is alright with open arms waiting for you to collapse safely into them. He doesn't require anything of you other than your love. A love which is very visible when you collapse into your Father's arms. You don't fall willingly into the arms of someone you don't love and trust.
God just wants to hold you.
Simply holding any of my children while we sit in silence is one of my favorite things to do. I'm thankful that I have one that still enjoys it as much as I do. There is something beautiful about sitting together in silence.
Simply holding any of my children while we sit in silence is one of my favorite things to do. I'm thankful that I have one that still enjoys it as much as I do. There is something beautiful about sitting together in silence.
I read a tweet by Jonathan Martin the other day that really struck me because it has been so true in my life. "My aversion to pain & my aversion to prayer have been intrinsically connected. Avoiding our discomfort is avoiding the Comforter."
Sometimes, prayer is just too painful. Prayer requires us to look deep into our hearts and find those things that need to be exposed, things that we've safely tucked away into the corner. But we have to dive into the pain, pull it out and lay it at the feet of our great and mighty Comforter if we are to find rest.
In those times where it is just to hard, I am thankful that we can rely on the intercession of the Holy Spirit who knows what we need God to know in those moments. I am thankful that a sigh to deep for words to express can be turned into the beautiful song of surrender through the power of the Spirit.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. (Romans 8:26-27, ESV)
So next time you feel overwhelmed, next time you just need to be alone with your thoughts, remember that God is pleased with simply holding you. He always has been, he always will be. He knows what you need, even if you don't. So let him hold you, I promise you won't be disappointed.
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