Monday, April 21, 2014


"Sweet girl, you need to let some things die.... and there's a resurrection that is far greater than what you want me to resuscitate."   Ironically... I was getting ready to play a podcast entitled just that "Resurrection or Resuscitation"  But I'd barely hit play and I sensed that very sentence.  

This is how God and I dialogue sometimes.  And this morning, in the midst of a morning of feeling all the feels, and hot stinging tears and to the point of simply feeling not well... that's what I heard.  For me to just let my fingers go from that ledge I cling to.  That ledge that holds control, it holds my relationships, it holds my dreams, desires and well... everything that I love to pretend I have control of. 

I've been wanting God to breathe life into things I know are my past.  I know they are.  And I love them.  I don't want to let people I care deeply about go.  I don't want to.  I don't want to trust Jesus with my future.  The depression that I've struggled with again that is like a suffocating blanket..... I don't want to trust God with that.  And today.. .with that one statement, in my car, at 6 am... I unraveled.  

Here's the truth.  I don't know how to die.  I don't.  I told a friend today, as tears were streaming and my heart simply just overwhelmed... that I don't even know how to ask people to help me do this.   How do I let people go?   How do I let desires simply die, and somehow trust in a resurrection that really, I can only be hopeful for.  There's no guarantee of what anything looks like afterwards.  How do I do that?  

That's where I'm left tonight.  To somehow let go.  And to die.  And to trust that God will breathe life to my dead places, and make them live again.  

Monday, April 14, 2014


I’m at the end of my rope with this single thing.


I’m at the point of crying when I hold babies, knowing that is such a longing for my heart.  A family.  To be a wife, and to be a mother.

I cry after attending friend’s weddings, because I honestly do not know if I will ever get to be that bride. 

I struggle still sometimes with what I could have changed in my last relationship to have not been broken up with, even knowing that it was for the best.  And that we are better friends. 

And I’m left with wondering if I ever at least get that man who I can grow old with.  Whether or not any children are ever involved, will my life always be a rotation of roommates, and trying to fill this time so I’m not by myself so much?     That every holiday I will try to find somewhere to go so I’m not alone.  That continually where I live won’t feel like home, rather this perpetual feeling of being a college student, counting down days until I go to Iowa, where that STILL feels more like home, because I don't have a home.  Will I have to make every big decision alone for the rest of my life?

I’m left feeling defective at times.  I’m better at that, but seriously…  I have these moments where I am convinced that there is something so terribly wrong with me. Even though the ex-boyfriend said there wasn’t.  Even though men in my life continually say they don’t understand why I’m still single.  My friends are so encouraging.  But still, the evidence is that I’ve not been chosen.  The evidence is that I’m alone.

To the degree of this feeling at the end of my rope, I’ve become like Hannah coming to the Lord and asking for a child, I ask, daily, for a husband.  For a family.  For someone to share my dreams with.    I remind myself that in the story of Isaac and his pursuing of Rachel, often we feel bad that after 7 years, he got Leah.  But I take consolation in the fact that God didn’t forget about Leah.  He granted her a family.  Even though she  “had weak eyes”…whatever the hell that means. 

I can’t quit looking for that connection, for that deep soul friend whom I will love.  I can’t.  I want to.  With all my heart I’ve begged to have that desire taken from me, because its absolutely painful to go to weddings and to hold those babies, and to watch friends in serious relationships… even though I’m so very happy for them. 

And really… well-meaning people and their platitudes… I don’t need that.

I need you to sit with me.  To let me talk.  To let me cry.  To let me grieve over what may  not be.  And then… speak hope.  I need hope.   Hug me.  Seriously… please hug me.  I miss touch in my life.   Men who are brothers to me… please do tell me the good things you see without making it weird.  I need to hear things at times from a man’s perspective. 

That’s where I am the last couple of weeks. 

I am in no way desperate or willing to settle with someone I am not in love with, and cannot connect with, but I am tired.  And feeling less than hopeful about my future in this area of my life, and somehow, would love to get back to believing this for my life.   True story.