Bigger Picture Moments: Coloring Inside the Lines

During the past few months especially, I've been pondering the illusion of perfection or "good" because I've felt pressure to color inside the lines.

Like a bottle under pressure, I began feeling like I might explode if I kept it up.

And whose lines are these anyway?

As I began dissecting it in my head and in conversation, I realized they are ones defined by our culture, our society and our communities.

It's not impossible to color inside all of those many and differing lines because many of them overlap.

But what I've found is that it IS impossible to keep my colors inside ALL of those lines AND still be the me who God created me to be.

I have a few relationships that I've spent time cultivating since we renounced "busy" in our house and have been taking steps to slowly relinquish the responsibilities we don't feel fit with our values of intimacy, family, friendship and loving God and our season of life. Specifically, I've been focusing on growing my relationship with God, which has been an exploration of understanding more of who He is and more of who He really created me to be.

During this time, I've also been cultivating my marriage and a few friendships, specifically, that have encouraged me toward seeking more of God's heart for me. And in this, I've been challenged by people who know me well to simply be who God created me to be. These people have loved me in my imperfections and embraced me as I've struggled through my growing pains and with understanding who God really says He is and who He says I am.

He says He is
Restorer. Savior. Creator. Perfecter. Author. Good. The Beginning. The End.

And He says I am beloved. And that I've been wonderfully and fearfully made. That I am gift, not a burden. And that I've been created to walk next to people through all kinds of relationships, be an advocate for the least of these and be a careful crafter of story and beauty and passion that moves hearts closer to Him.

These understandings of who God is and who He created me to be have afforded me the freedom to color outside of the lines. And as I've sought God in this, I've realized His lines are a whole lot different than the ones I've been trying to stay inside.

I've found that in coloring inside of God's lines -- the ones where we love and obey Him and love others and ourselves -- there's a lot more freedom to be myself.

Bigger Picture Moments: I See You

Yesterday, in a fit of frustration, I called out to God, asked Him where the heck He's been lately.

I've been feeling a little invisible. A little forgotten. A little frustrated lately.

With not being pregnant anymore.
With hearing repeatedly to be still.
With trying to be patient.
With feeling like I'm literally standing on a boat in gentle waters most of the day and some days rendered unable to walk without holding onto the wall or a hand for support because I feel so off balance. 

It's all things I don't often wear out on my sleeve.

All things I can keep circulating in my brain, quiet prayers constantly being uttered in a persistent, humble bringing to God and asking Him if He could just

Heal me of the grief from losing the babies.
Give me a direction in which to move.
Give me patience if I can't have that direction yet.
Restore the life balance and with it my physical balance. 

Please God. Please.

Maybe I'm greedy. Maybe I'm needy. Maybe I'm feeling a little like desperation looks.

I know I have much for which to be thankful. I know He's answered many prayers these past few months.

But still I plead for restoration and direction

and to just know that He hasn't left me here alone in this place of frustration.

Sometimes I forget and I mistake God's silence for stillness. 

Sometimes He has to remind me clearly that the two are not the same. And in that sometimes He breaks His silence.

Like yesterday.

Our senior pastor and I record a weekly video called Joe on the Go. And in it he spoke about how that morning he was reminded of the story of Hagar when she's out in the wilderness and she called God "the God who sees me."



I didn't give it a second thought.

Until I came across that very same story of Hagar again on Facebook.

And then

again in a book I was reading.

I closed the book, taken aback, and heard a whisper in my heart that said, "I see you."

As I journaled the day, I realized, too, that on a day when I had an explosion of frustration from feeling so invisible from what I was truly wearing on my heart, God sent others to really see me, too.

My husband saw I needed more sleep yesterday and wanted to make sure the kids slept until a decent hour before leaving for work.

My almost six year old noticed that morning that I was rushed and encouraged me to relax and slow down. {He's not even six! He rarely notices more than light sabers and play forts let alone the way I'm feeling!}

A friend messaged me during the day to say that she knew how I was feeling and could she come over tomorrow?

Another friend shared that she felt like our friendship made worthwhile the hardship of having moved to the suburbs.

Simple conversations that seemed to sing, "You know, I see you. I really, really see you."

And on a day when I had an explosion of frustration from feeling so invisible from what I was truly wearing on my heart, God broke silence to say, "I see you. I really, really see you, too."

And in being seen, I feel like today my eyes are open to what's really going on these days -- I'm not wandering alone, off map in unchartered territory.

I'm under the careful watch of the Shepherd who knows where we're going ... even when I don't.