mary's spring break

Thursday, Dave took the girls to Charleston. He's left me here alone promising to return tomorrow by eleven so we can make a noon wedding. I asked for space and quiet. I've chosen busy and loud.

For weeks now everyone has told me to stop, to slow down, to sit before the Lord and cry out. There have been occassions where I've had time to that but its come in spurts. In the bathtub soaking in the music from the funeral. Words of hope and truth bathed in accoustic beauty. Lying still, my mind frozen yet spinning, unable to focus. Images racing.

This weekend its time for me to sit. process. What have I done? Marshalls to buy a dress for the wedding. Dinner and drinks to celebrate a dear friend's life. Cardio funk at the Y. Purging my kitchen of high fructose corn syrup and processed foods. Earthfare to reload. Everything but sit.

But here I am.

As I look at the list above of how I've spent my time its quite a clear picture of how I've been processing with the Lord. I've tried to busy myself and put the heart-work off.

The first 2 weeks were brutal. I was paralyzed with shock and grief. The overwhelming task of maintaining our home in order was crushing. Dave and I put Celia in our neighborhood kindergarten ending my short-lived career as a homeschooling mom. This was a relief. One area of stress relieved in the midst of this, leaving me time to sit and process.

I didn't though. I filled it with shopping. and eating. We were so well loved by our friends and dinners came throughout the end of February. comfort food at its best. This left me feeling bloated with sadness nonetheless. The Lord has met me in this. I hope to share some of where He's brought me these 8 weeks at some point.

But now I sit, coffee in hand, Bible opened on my lap and I still ask the same question I seem to have been asking for years. Is Jesus enough?

I say He is. I want to really live like He is. But do I?

Why do I continue to choose activities when given space and time instead of rushing to His feet, washing them with my tears? Why don't I trust Him to accomplish the things He's called me to do, instead of furiously scribbling on my calendar making lists upon lists? Why don't I run to His word for energy and life instead of to the kitchen? When will I trust Him with this pain to the depth I need to?

Lindsay sent me the Daily Light morning passage from March 7. Balm to my soul.....

You shall no longer be termed forsaken,....but you shall be called Hephzibah.
[My delight is in her]....for the Lord delights in you. As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
so shall your God rejoice over you. He has sent me....to comfort all who mourn,
to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

Help my unbelief.