With four months in Japan behind us, the dust is beginning to settle. I don’t see pictures of all the “used to be’s” in my mind anymore. Being in the house with me is no longer a daily roller-coaster ride (just when I’m PMSing now — I’m sure Bryan’s glad for the reprieve!). I don’t pine away for our first visit home — I’m excited for it, but I don’t feel desperate. (It’s not for another 1.5+ years, so this is good news.)
Though feeling more acclimated to life certainly has its perks, I’m really missing something about the sadness. I miss Jesus. I looked at Him so differently while I was sad and frustrated, it was so much easier to come to Him when I was needy. Of course, I know how all this sounds. And its true — if I were to have my druthers in life, ‘easy’ would always be the way I choose. Even as I say that, though, something deep inside me resonates with the opposite, which is the only real Truth: all good things require blood, sweat, and tears. I’m into the “sweat” part now — being disciplined and obedient to get into the Bible, though it doesn’t make me feel smart or pretty. I hate that about the Bible. I am afraid of the Bible. I don’t want to read the Bible. But somehow, I know that the key to what my heart longs for is waiting for me there. What am I waiting for? The truth is, I am always needy, most especially when I don’t realize so. I am missing out on great things because I am afraid! What silliness. I’m afraid I’ll open the Bible to read it, and it will turn out to be just like any other book, only more complicated and boring. I can’t believe I still feel this way, even after recalling all the times in my life that God has stepped out for me, has pursued me and found me huddling in the corner, has been faithful.. faithful even to reveal Himself in His Word. Ever since I began walking with God, I have constantly battled reading the Bible — after surviving my parent’s divorce, after breaking up with boyfriends, after starting a new life, after stepping out in faith and fundraising thousands of dollars and packing up our first home and leaving family and flying across the BLOOMING OCEAN! The BIBLE! The issues are STILL THERE! They’re beginning to make me angry.
I so want this part of my life to change and am trying to make steps toward it — a while back, I wrote to the mamas, asking about breastfeeding and spanking and rising before your kids. I’ve finally been able to do it — Bryan and I, most days, get up an hour or more before Jones wakes up. I was thrilled by this. Then I would sit. I would look at the Bible. I would get up and make coffee. I would stand across the room with my mug in my hand and look at the Bible. I would journal and look at the Bible. I would ask Bryan a question. I would make some toast. I would look at the Bible, and maybe I would finally open it up. I would flip through a few pages, wondering, “How in the heck am I supposed to know where to go? How will I know when I get there? Which passages will provide light, encouragement, worship?” Then I would close the Bible, feeling at a complete and utter lost. This, with a few exceptions, has been my experience with the Bible. Just the fact that I experience such difficulty in opening it proves to me that therein lies something very important.
*Sigh* This post turned out differently than I was originally intending, but typing all this felt very relieving. Looking back, over the last several seasons of my life, I have been on the cusp of admitting all this, but I always wondered if my problem was perhaps just circumstantial. After all, I had a lot going on in life, a lot of major changes — my quick engagement to Bryan (five weeks of dating), a busy time of wedding planning (when is it not?), our surprise pregnancy after one month of marriage, my abrupt exit from “college life” into “MOTHERHOOD” (duh duh duh!), our interviewing and fundraising and preparing to move to Japan, then the actual move, the good-byes, the new culture and life — there was never time for the dust to settle, for me to stop and look at the picture, and so I was left with excuses, I suppose. But now I just know it. My heart just knows it.
I’m waiting, God! What next?