sound so sad 

God, come here again. Give me a visit from a smiling friend. Wrap me up gently in your arms for I am tired. So tired. But i keep rising up to sit here and wait for you to come. To lift my eyes to your eyes, they are filled with so much compassion and mercy. I don’t care much why notes don’t sound the same – whybtheyball

Fmf: visit.

It’s so weird that five minute Friday will have it’s own space starting next week. It’s good. The change will take some getting used to though. 

I’m really trying to find the humor in my “whybtheyball” or what I’m even talking about in this letter except that I’m tired and want time with a friend in person or God or both. I was writing to music so I think I got lost in it for a minute. Shocker. 

Today in Whispers of Rest by Bonnie Gray, there’s a challenge for today’s devotional to do something that makes me smile. Typically music makes me feel happier, but today not so much. It just made me really focus on the suggested songs that played, both from psalm 130 about the depths of despair and waiting.
God, please help me to wait on You because I’m losing hope. And yet still holding on. You will restore all the locusts have eaten and are doing more than I ask or think even when I don’t acknowledge it or can’t see it. I know it’s okay to cry out because David did, but it’s hard for me right now because I’m tired of crying and waiting and confusion. Thank you the stuffed and candy my sister just brought me back from the zoo. Help me keep praising you. Thank you. Amen.


Yes, panda, we’re going to the watering Word. 

me personally enough I want to trust You.

Lord,

The truth is I’m tired. Tired of trying, pushing, waiting, aching, hurting. And yet, I find myself in the shower tonight worshipping You. What else am I supposed to do? If it is a test, all these things that keep happening and this distance I feel for people, friends I dearly love and yet at others times feel so close to, I still want to believe the best right now. I still want to believe You can restore things to better than before. You can make me smile. Again. You can touch 

fmf: truth.

I want to do this big commentary about how I’m tired of myself and in general but I’m just going to put this verse I read in proverbs last night (I can’t believe I made it to Proverbs in my bible in a year plan. It’s awesome and shocking) because focusing on Jesus is better. And it is too easy to sink in sorrow right now.

“The blessing of the LORD brings [true] riches, And He adds no sorrow to it [for it comes as a blessing from God].”

‭‭PROVERBS‬ ‭10:22‬ ‭AMP‬

I totally want to see this and also I’m little confused as to why it says God as no sorrow to the blessing because it comes Him. It really makes me wonder yet again, You’re always happy, God? But you suffer with us? But you are love so it delights you to bless me when I’m sad or happy or mad or whatever because that’s who you are: good at your center. Hmm.

mom

God,

I love mom. I really do not know how she does it. Okay, well I know it’s because of You, but I don’t get how she pours out so much when right now I’m not the kindest. At all. I mean, she watched me lose it on a friend and then promptly cry because I can’t do friendship right. I hurt and ache and gahh. She’s the one who has watched me break again and again. And when her mom passes, she’s the one giving me comfort when I should of been the one comforting her. What kind of love is that? Your love I’m sure. But sometimes I wish I wasn’t so weepy. I wish I could heal her pain. How can I honor her in the best way? Can I give her a thousand hugs or call her Sompingme and let the way she says it back make me smile and say, it can be a real Somp sometimes? 
I love that we have our own language that no one understands at all. And that she wants me to love life even though I’m afraid. Very, very afraid. I’m stuck in fear, God. I push too hard and now we are here. I never mean to lose my cool with her – I’ve always been the positive one. Not the one who’s like, there’s no point. I’m not good enough. But her hugs make me feel home. The constant texts I sometimes send to remind her she is loved and I’m thankful for all she does –like letting me sing Ellie Holcomb on a constant repeat and singing with me –draw me closer to your heart, God. The way she cares about flowers and will bring one to me so I know you are close. That she wants me to sit and read directions for a recipe or shuck corn or put away silverware. 
They are so small compared to what she does, has done for me. Her presence makes a difference in my life. So much so that I know that’s why I teared writing that last sentence. I don’t know how to adequately tell her, I love you, without feeling like my entire insides will fall to the floor. I mean my heart. I just want to cry and cry and cry. Because all I see is You, Abba..in her and all the moms you’ve put in my life.
I don’t know how to say thank You anyway else. 
Love,

Your child

Fmf: mom.

I wrote this way past five minutes. But it’s kinda hard for me to stop with this prompt. My mom is well, a Somp, and this week, I’ve seen yet again how much I love she got me all hooked on Call the Midwife (people, that show is 😭😍 if anyone wants to get me the memoirs the show is based off of so I can devour them, just thank you.), and has been singing Ellie Holcomb after I turn it off. And trying to get me to see, she dislikes that I’m so afraid of life. Not the sorrow, but the joy. And listens to all of my pain.

I love you, mom. I can’t put it any other way than that. You do so much for me.

Like this:

You helped me to memorize the verse by painting it, and showed me it’s okay to make mistakes, you just improvise. It’s the same when you cook, too.Thank you for always singing along to Ellie’s music with me – it makes me happier than I can understand. Thank you for making sure I sleep (I’m sorry I was so against naps when I was young) and understanding when I don’t and then get twisty. Thank you for letting me help you even in the smallest ways right now, with silverware and handing you clothes hangers and grocery lists. Thank you for getting me a blizzard from DQ. Thank you for encouraging me with this conference and when I’ve gone into full drawing or writing mode. 

And most of all thank you for believing in me when I can’t. I don’t understand this path God has me on, or why it feels like all my dreams are dead, but I love you for believing I’ll come alive again. Thank you for showing you can come alive with the way you love and care for plants. It’s a real Somp sometimes, but I’m glad you always manage to make me laugh.

Please remember it’s okay for you to laugh too. It brightens your face. 🙂

I love you,

Old Sport.

at tears within me.

God,

I’ve lost my mind. Really. Can someone be this emotional? I never said I wanted a child. Well, with Michael I did. Not for right reasons though. I was so overcome with the fact he thought I could write or that I could raise someone. A baby. I am one, you know? My emotions are all over the place. I can’t stop touching the incision, the place where there will be a scar. God, I should trust you with this healing. I am afraid of what’s on the other side. I want to be held now, so tightly. I want to be told everything will be alright and weep wh

FMF: should.

So, I’m trying something new: writing letters to God in actual paragraphs. This is as close as I got in 5 minutes. I don’t think it’s that bad. I honestly thought it would be a poem. I’m so used to breaking up my words that putting them together is weird and almost foreign.  

Everything feels that way. This letter is about my recovery of healing from a hysterectomy. I’ve wanted to write about this for awhile, but have felt afraid. I don’t how to articulate the sorrow, the way I saw God show me His face. The compassion of the nurses and the way I learned as much as I want to talk, so does everyone else. There was a night nurse I learned this from. We all long to be heard.

She fed me jello and lingered with me when other patients needed her. We talked (well, I don’t know how much talking I did with my medicine loopiness) about books and TV. She told me about buzz lightyear and woody. I immediately smiled when she said she got her nephew a pull string Woody. Her smile was glorious. What I felt in my heart to be heard, noticed and seen, I saw in her eyes. 

It showed me how when God wants to spend time with us even in very difficult circumstances, it isn’t a “hey, do this for me, would you?” It’s more, hey, I wouldn’t mind if you asked me questions and I share my heart with you. I don’t always want you to do something. I want to be with you. And you with me.

All I’ve thought about since coming home from the hospital is, how does a woman leave her children to go take care of others who may or may not acknowledge her? And do it with such joy, patience and kindness at 12 AM, 2 AM…? It was Jesus right before me as I was weak and sad and alone, but when He spoke, something quieted. I just wanted to stay there with the ginger ale and the jello, the smile.

Presence changes everything, especially when you’re still enough to appreciate not only the receiving, but the giving of ears to listen too.

I could go on, but it will make me cry most likely too. Learning a lot about myself lately. Like this:

 

And this:


I’m on the launch team for this new devotional book from Bonnie & ughh, so good. There’s probably going to be more graphics and rambles until I review later this month, so look out for those. ☺️

All this aside, the fact that I’ve been afraid to write here and this came out clearly shows the lie I’ve been believing I’m not a writer with no purpose is just that: a lie. Oh Lord, let Your light and love be my trust. My hope. All these new things that feel risky, You will continue to light the way and keep my feet from slipping. You will uphold me with Your unfailing love. Support me. And when my emotions swirl and spill before You, may Your comforts delight me. Thank You for healing me today.

Labels

Meg Lynch

*A sort-of note to almost-nine-year-old Meg

Dear Sweetheart,

You are about to turn nine and enter into a new season of your life.

You are expecting new friends, more learning, and hearing about Jesus every single day. You are so excited.

Just a few months ago, you looked your principal in the face and squealed, “I’m going to a CHRISTIAN school next year!” He saw your excitement and joined in your joy. He said they would be missing you, but they were so happy for you.

The first day of school, you will be introduced to things like cursive, multiplication and division, and phonics…things you’ve never even dreamed existed. You are also asked to recite all the Bible verses you can remember, but you don’t know any.

In that moment, you will feel it: they all know more than you. You can’t read the pretty squiggles and swirls…

View original post 470 more words

come tell me, child

when she said
you’re waiting
with open ears—

a mailbox of sorts,
patient for my letter,
i was dumbfounded.

i tell the whole world
heartbreak, curious
why they don’t have

answers. then i hear–

FMF Prompt: when. (Yes, i know i posted a few hours ago about wanting a break…but i started today by talking to Jesus about all of my heart. So, i’m feeling okay right now. Also, I’ve come to the realization prayer is definitely my word for this year. And i’ve never had a word of the year.. and i wrote this in 5 minutes. it’s a pretty half thought.)