I love a good cry. A sappy movie, an emotional detox, and tears of joy. Any of these make life a little richer. I once blogged about sitting in front of my closet crying as I was unpacking boxes in this house. Sometimes thoughts, emotions and circumstances collide to make a good cry. I will be the first one to admit this.
I have spent a lot of time this month reflecting on the past year. This time last year, we had just sold our house. Hubby was finishing his time active-duty, we had a newborn, had a lot of hard goodbyes, was staying with my in-laws, and we were preparing to move to Texas. There was a lot of change and I typically don’t prefer change. God was clearly leading our family on this journey, but nevertheless it was hard and I was still scared. I was constantly praying, clinging to truth, and taking it one day at a time asking the Lord to carry me.
A year later, I find myself learning new things, but the good, bad and bittersweet memories of last year are easily recalled.
On Sunday morning, I couldn’t seem to get my thoughts sorted. It felt like a jumble of past, present and future ideas exploding in my brain. On top of that, I was physically tired and I could see myself going towards an unnecessary emotional reaction. I sat in my own silence and felt my mind struggling to focus. As much as I appreciate a good cry, I prefer not to do it in the presence of a large group or out of nowhere drop an emotional bomb on my husband. I found it wise to take a moment to myself and slipped off to the cry room at the back of the church.
I started to sing, to pray, to reflect and to cry.
Sometimes I think, “Wow, it’s been a year and what do I have to show for it?” Right now, I am sitting at an armoire I still haven’t finished painting since we moved in. I am very good at putting expectations on myself and this year, I have basically learned to throw that idea down the drain. I have an audience of 1 — God my Father, and it’s been an intense year sitting before Him seeking clarity about just what He wants of me. A lot of things have continually had to change for me to please Him and serve Him well.
Last week, I was feeling an enormous weight of pressure with all of my relationships and many of them shifting. Wife, mother, old-friend/new-friend, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, sister-in-law, mentor, mentee, counselor, teacher, researcher, planner…the list goes on. My head got a little cloudy so I googled “What does it look like to have your identity in Christ?” I just wanted a little refresher and wasn’t expecting the video I found. It was at the top of my search and a good resource in general so I was excited for some practical application of a heavy theological concept. Something I practice day to day was simply phrased in another way and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
“These are temporary roles.”
“If our identity is in Christ, we are equipped to take up these roles. We are suddenly equipped to not use ourselves and our puny little problems as the paradigm through which we filter good, bad, ugly, pretty, anything. We are equipped if we have our identity in Christ. When we have our identity in our roles, and our gifts, and our hobbies, and our interests…we are just limping along and it’s sad.”
There have recently been a few days I don’t feel equipped. I look at the vast amount of responsibilities (all extremely great ones) and think “God this is just a lot to handle right now and please don’t ask much more of me.” It’s easy to sit there a little too long and linger in that self-loathing feeling. But the truth of the matter is that I am perfectly equipped. I am MORE than equipped. God doesn’t ask me to be a mother, wife, friend, daughter, teacher, referee, and more by my own strength. He says just die to myself, seek Christ, and He will sustain me with anything and everything I have been called to do. I know these things to be true. I have experienced them first hand, COUNTLESS times, and Christ has never left me to figure it out on my own. Yet I easily forget and I very much need reminders.
I enjoyed a good cry and some sweet moments of reflecting on who and whose I AM. The amount of tasks and responsibilities may seem daunting at times, but accomplished one at a time, they remain a sweet privilege that hopefully bring glory to God.
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Galatians 2:20
With All My Love,