So on one side, there is my brain (and my heart, too) that is so sure of God's grace and mercy. This one side relies on it daily, just to get through the day, because there is not one day that I do not long for my Dad, not a day that my heart ceases to ache for myself, my brother, my mom, his friends, their friends, and there is nothing but the peace of Christ that soothes that ache. There is this side that can't get through life without things such as: holy music, like "10,000 reasons for my heart to find" or anything of David Crowder, uplifting verses, thoughtful words from loved ones, etc.
And there is one side that is tired, selfish, weak, and weary. This one side lately that lets the pain numb me, blind me, and just ...coast. This one side has almost forgotten how to pray. Literally, I was with a few girls last week, and one insisted we "popcorn" pray and everyone participate, and I fumbled for my words. I realized how little I have been praying lately. And how different that is from me a year ago - when we went to Zambia, we prayed big and bold prayers all the time, internal, outloud, you name it - we talked to God. But lately, there's a side of me that keeps God at distance, my arm stretched out, holding him there - within reach if I need him, but out of the way when I feel like I don't.
So here we are, these two sides of my brain, my heart, pressed up against each other. Drew & I just completed a year long bible study through our church with the most wonderful small group. And there was an end of year meeting/celebration last night for all the small groups at our church, and we went. And on the way there, I caught myself doing this: wondering if my eyebrows were too dark for my face and if I should do something about it. Seriously. I looked at pictures of myself on my phone at a red light and was legitimately concerned. Then I spent an hour at church, with genuine people and genuine faith (and the imperfections and struggles that accompany that) and I could have cared less about my eyebrows. I was focused on how I was loving people, what ministries Drew & I should pour our time into, wondering why I wasn't praying more, why I'm not reading scripture more excitedly.
So here we are. For the next seven days, I plan to make time to do nothing but pray for five minutes. Sounds easy. Sounds daunting. Another juxtaposition!
Last night, a church staffer read Romans 12. I'm soaking it in today. (The first part of the chapter is below.)
Oh Lord, let me draw near to you. Fill my heart with the need to lean on you. Thank you for all the people you've put in my life that point me to you. I rejoice, God, that you promise to never leave or forsake me. Help me bring that comfort to others.