I was sitting outside church this last Sunday, ready to give up and drive away. Tears rising up but knowing that the last thing I wanted was to walk inside and have people, strangers and new acquaintances knowing I had been crying.
I am angry at God, still. I am hurt.
Most of the time I can move around that feeling with Him. I can still do my Bible study homework and talk to my kids about God and His love for them. I can pray for my friends and even myself. I am good at doing the business of life with God while avoiding the real deep feelings I have. But not always.
This move, taking me away from those that know me well and love me better, that help me be my best self and encouraged me to be even better. To write, to love, to share life. God could have made life in California work. But he didn't. He led us here. And while this is an amazing place. I have to start over and I am tired of that.
Each time we move things are taken away from me. Not just people, but my history, my reputation. Each time I have to start over. I have to sign up for Bible study, not teach it. I have to join a new small group, one that does not know my heart for God. How do you share honestly your anger and pain in a new Bible study small group when they do not know that my faith is deep and wide? And so I turn here.
I am hurt. I am angry.
I thought God was doing something with my writing, with my teaching, with leading women to experience God's love and grace. I thought I had found my purpose in Oregon when I first started teaching Bible study in Oregon years ago, when Little One was a huge belly bump. I loved it. But then we moved to California. And I know all the good reasons we did so. I know it was the right move, but I lost my role.
And so I turned to writing my thoughts instead. I started this blog. My first blog post Out of Control was posted on October 15, 2008. I didn't think much of it at the time. Just an outlet to get my thoughts out of my head and maybe encourage a few of those women I was once blessed to teach. But over the last five years, I have seen other bloggers' audiences grow from 3 to 10 to 75 to hundreds. And I hoped. Maybe this would be my thing, my way of adding value to the world. But instead this stays a small place for my friends to keep up with what's on my mind. And while I know there is value in that, I wonder, often, if maybe it is time to give up on this work. To let my thoughts go back to being held in private. To stop thinking of this as work and to just stop trying to pursue the dream of maybe...
When we returned to Oregon I got to teach again. Oh and how amazing that was. I loved opening myself up to God and seeing what He had for me to share. I loved knowing that my stories might be helping someone else see God in a new way. But we moved again. And again. And I am wondering how this transient life will ever lead to my dreams.
I am 40 years old and starting over.
And I am tired of it. I am absolutely worn out by the newness this time.
And I hate that right now my entire life is being defined by my role as wife and mother. I'm not proud of this but it is true.
I love my family. But I want to be me too.
And so I sat outside of church this last Sunday, on the verge of tears. Tired of being new and scared that I may never make real connections here. I was angry at God. Rage filled. Overwhelmed by a desire to walk away. To quit and be done with following Him where ever He leads.
But I walked inside anyway. Because that is what you do when your kids are in Sunday School and it is time to go to big church together as a family.
Somedays faith is about going through the motions. Because it is in being in the motions, being in the building, that God can work His magic. That a conversation can happen that reminds you that He's got this and that you are where you are meant to be. That things will be okay.
Not that everything is all better. But this Sunday, God gave me a win for that day.
Do you need a win today?