Because it's been six weeks

I am blogging tonight because there are a lot of things I do not like and there are a lot of things I cannot control but I do like blogging and I can control when I blog so here I am.

I do not like that I have been some form of sick for the past month. I do not like that my school is boring. I do not like living in a city with traffic. I do not like being away from my friends, from my teachers, from my church, from my community that I built for myself over the past four years. I especially do not like not living with Jojo.

Sometimes all of these things that I do not like seem so big and heavy and hard that I feel crushed. One day not very long ago they seemed so big and heavy and hard that I was ready to quit my school and my job and my house and everything I had started building for myself here in Austin.

But I didn’t. Thanks to a few hours’ sleep and a paper written and lots and lots of Mama love, I didn’t. I dropped one class and got a fish, instead.

Things got better. I wrote myself a note, reminding me of why I'm in grad school. I got to know some of my roommates a little better. I made a friend at school and a friend at church. I visited my parents some more. I took time to read. I fed my fish.

But this weekend, when I was covered in hives from head to toe and Belmont Abbey Women’s Soccer suffered a bitter loss in the Conference Championship game and I was so, so, tired and I missed my NC friends so much it hurt and all I wanted to do was go to my parents’ house and my car wouldn’t start so I was stuck in Denton: away from my home, away from my parents’ home and away from the plan? It was not better. It was big and heavy and hard and crushing.

My car is fixed now. My hives have gone down. I enjoyed some quality time and retail therapy with my sister. I got some rest. I talked to some of my NC friends.

It was not all bad, and things are better now.

But I am not used to sometimes big and heavy and hard. I am not used to feeling so overwhelmed. I am not used to crying. These are now much more common occurrences than I would like to admit.

But as I drove home today after getting my car repaired I remembered one of the notecards right above my desk:

“I have heard your prayer, I have seen your tears, surely I will heal you.” 2 Kings 20:5

Passenger reminded me that “sometimes you can’t change and you can’t choose / and sometimes it seems you gain less than you lose / now we’ve got holes in our hearts / yeah we’ve got holes in our lives / where we’ve got holes, we’ve got holes / but we carry on.”

And I chose to say “Jesus I am resting, resting / In the joy of what Thou art / I am finding out the greatness / Of Thy loving heart”

Because it is okay for things to feel big and heavy and hard. It is okay to have holes and be hurting. It is okay because we are pressed but not crushed and persecuted not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed. Jesus has heard my prayers – my many prayers – and has seen my tears – my many, many tears – and he will heal my holes and my hurting and hold my heaviness.

I don’t know how long it will take. But it will happen. And that’s good enough for now.