Blog

Life in a glass bowl. What does that mean? Why did I choose to label my writing with those specific words?

It may or may not surprise you to know that when you are in a relationship with a pastor (either married to him or a child of him), so much of your life is public. It is next to impossible to keep things hidden (not that you should). People that you are close to speak into your life – which is typical – but then so do others with whom you are not so close too. It’s as if everyone has an opinion of how the pastor and his family should act, think, and be.

I get it. I grew up in it. And yet, here’s the thing: I really want to live my life in a way that 1) honors God, 2) where relationships matter, 3) where honesty and integrity abound. Transparent. Like a fish living in a bowl where there is nothing hidden. When I am up, I want to share it. When I am down, I want to still maintain the vulnerability to share it.

This weekend, even with its extra day, has been exhausting. Physically exhausting as well as emotionally exhausting. It’s no secret that working in an elementary school is like working in a Petri dish. Germs seem to spread like wildfire, and some years I manage to catch just about every sickness possible. This seems to be one of those years. I have been fighting stomach bugs, only to begin to recover and catch the flu. You get what I mean.

While the sickness attacks my physical body and my sleep, my emotions have been put through the wringer. I have experienced great loss in my ministry, and identity. This has put incredible strain on my marriage because my husband feels caught in the middle. I am dealing with a child in the last semester of high school (which brings a whole new world to us soon), and a child deeply impacted by anxiety. At work, I am feeling tension between staff that I frankly cannot stand. It’s a challenging time.

Yesterday while at the store with Hannah buying groceries, I learned that my grandmother would likely not make it through the night. My last grandmother. Friend, no doubt have I been blessed. I have had my grandmothers well into my adult life – and have lived to watch them as great-grandmothers to my children. I do not want her to suffer. I do not like what the last couple of years have done to my grandparents’ minds. And yet, sitting on the cusp of this loss is so hard. I shouldn’t really be flying – I would expose everyone to my germs and potentially grab some new ones for myself. I wouldn’t be allowed into the ICU.

My heart was torn and filled with grief. I want to be there to love on my Daddy (it’s his mom). I want to be there to love on my grandmother. I want to be there to give and receive comfort from my family. And I can’t be.

We made a Face Time call as a “next best thing.” For well over an hour, I got to be “in the room.” I watched as my sweet grandfather with dementia tried to make sense of what was going on and as he said goodbye to my grandmother with what might have been his last time here on earth. I listened in as my family shared stories. I tried my best to join in with my family to sing some songs that would bring grandma comfort and remind her of the hope she has in Jesus.

And I felt guilt. Disappointment. My grandmother was so proud of me. She had heard about my book with Hope and was thrilled that we were writing. She has been reminding me each time we talk that she wants a copy. She has been saying for years that I should make a book, and could hardly contain her pride when she found out it was really going to happen. But she will miss it. Friend, I cannot fully express how much that thought grieves me.

I get this is a part of life. So much of life is hard. There is a constant ebb and flow between each high and low. I know that.

At this same time, I have been blessed with an amazing new home. I have a husband who is committed to me and our family. I have an incredible Christian counselor who is helping us work through yet another challenging time in our relationship. And if that weren’t enough, my child has one working with her as well. Our church is growing and is in the midst of yet another capital campaign to help accommodate for the growth. There is simply much to be grateful for, I am only scratching the surface…

No doubt this is why I find myself back to reading the Psalms. I need and crave the words that so often bring hope into times of darkness. I long to hear and know that I am not alone in my struggles. This isn’t new. It’s just how life is – until we pass on to be with Jesus.

“The LORD gives his people strength.” (Psalm 28:8a) “Praise the LORD! For he has heard my cry for mercy. The LORD is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of Thanksgiving.” (Psalm 28:6-7)

God has not abandoned me. God is not punishing me. God is not distant. In fact, God is incredibly close. Holding me. Carrying me. Strengthening me and my loved ones. He loves me.

He loves you. It is my hope you feel his love deep into your core.

Blessings!