So much of my life, and maybe yours too, is a slow, painful death of having all the things I thought would satisfy my need to feel wanted and fulfill my desire to belong graciously ripped away from me. Every day is a physical reminder that the love I search for in marriage and the overwhelming fullness I feel in motherhood is just not ultimate—yes, it is a gift that has brought immense joy, but time and again I sit with my discontentment and remember that the created wasn’t meant to be my god.
My heart recoils at where I am and how the Lord is still working out the countless kinks in my iron fist—Like shouldn’t I be further along by now? Shouldn’t I be past struggling as I do? Shouldn’t my desires have been totally dethroned by now? Oh this war within.I’m exhausted. I hate the sin see-saw I find myself buckled into—the playground of looking to lesser things to give me what Jesus alone can offer. He alone satisfies this wandering and weary heart. I know that and yet I still find myself drawn to what I know will consume me.
I say with Paul—"Oh wretched person that I am. Who will rescue me from this body of death?" (Romans 7:24-25)
And then I remember. That’s the tension of the Christian life. To be here and not there. To be now and not then. That all my pain. And all my struggle. And all my sin. And all my hurt. And all my failures. And all my letdowns—that they would be swallowed up in Christ and push me nearer to the Lord who in spite of my frailty will be glorified in my weakness.
Oh Lord, help me sit with the better portion until all things are made new.
*Originally posted on Instagram (12-2-22)
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