Satan has been fighting hard for my heart lately.
And quite frankly, I’ve let him win a handful of times. I’ve thrown in the towel, thrown my hands up (and not in the good way), and believed the lie that life is meant to be spent alone.
I think that sometimes when we go through hard things or hard seasons or bad days, we make ourselves more numb and more numb and more numb by the voices that we choose to listen to. Lately, those voices have sounded so foreign to me, but they’ve wrapped me up and tangled me in.
Words that say that I’m not good enough. Words that shout that I’m not pretty enough or smart enough. Words that convince me that my life is out of control and that no one is taking care of me. Words that convince me that I’m too far gone away now and that God is done with me.
Undoubtedly, being a Christian is the hardest thing I’ve ever done and one of the hardest things I’m sure I’ll ever do. Maybe that’s terrible and it should just come naturally, but it doesn’t. I’m human and my heart wants to do everything the other way around. It’s hard to want to get up day after day and pursue the Lord. It’s hard to want to be the daughter, friend, sister, and RA that I am called to be when I don’t feel like I can pull myself together. And it’s really hard from me to trust that the Lord is who He says He is.
I have this sticky note up in my room that says, “God, we ask that you would show up today.” I now realize that I’m the one that often fails to show up. I am the one that bails on plans and forgets to call. That’s a cheesy analogy, but I think it’s true. I am the one that doesn’t show up.
I think that a lot of the time, showing up looks literally just like showing up. It looks like swiveling myself over the edge of my bed every morning and asking the Lord to be enough for me. It looks like going to class when I don’t feel like it, studying for that test that I know I’ll fail anyway, saying hi to that person though I know it’ll lead to a full conversation and I don’t want that. It looks like being willing to be used. Hm. I think I’ve done well at shutting the Lord out lately. Like saying life is too much and I can’t balance it all, so some things have to go.
It looks like opening my heart to His plan, though it is probably vastly different than my (what I believe is) masterfully created plan. It looks like going to bed at a decent hour (notice that it’s 11:57pm, failed that one tonight) because it’ll make me a better person tomorrow. It looks like closing my eyes at all because it fiercely reminds me that I can’t do this without Him.
It looks like choosing rest when my to-do list is miles long and I’m fast approaching a meltdown. It looks like loving and seeking and praying and honoring.
Cause maybe all of this is for my deliverance. maybe it’s for my righteousness, for my holiness. maybe it’s for my love and for my heart. maybe it’s for my future family. maybe it’s for the relationship I have today and the ones I’ll make tomorrow. maybe it’s for my sake that I face all that I do. maybe, just maybe, He is good in the bad.
I believe that. I believe that He gets it, even in our bad times. I believe that He is worth more than I can imagine if I can just keep holding on.
so today, I’m showing up. I’ve said that before, but I’m learning that it’s something I have to keep repeating. It’s important to keep showing up and keep showing up and keep showing up. because I think there’s a harvest coming for my heart and I won’t see it if I’m not there. so I’m swiveling and asking, I’m loving and gracing, I’m hoping and believing.
and I’m choosing God for this fight. I couldn’t be more thankful that He chooses me, too, even when I don’t show up for weeks. even when the seasons get long, He is faithfully there if only we’ll meet Him in that place.
thank you, God, for your goodness. for the deep way that you love. for words forgotten and prayers answered so those words are remembered. thank you for deliverance. thank you for pulling me from myself and making me more like you. thank you for continually weeding my heart; it needs a lot of weeding. thank you for giving me enough faith to trust you. Jesus, be the author and perfecter of my faith. give me that faith, that one that is steadfast.