The mess on the counter.
The weeds that need pulled.
The dog that needs walked,
The kids that need fed.
The husband that will soon come home.
The broken outlet plate.
All things I can touch,
clean, fix, mend, love.
I can hold these things,
and take care of them,
Hug them, make it better.
I can clean off the counter
and walk away with things
as they should be.
It is, for the moment,
I also deal with
I can’t cross these things
off my list.
I can’t hold these
in my hand;
touch them, grasp them, capture them.
We are dealing with invisible things.
I can’t fix these with an
hour’s focused work.
Every time I turn around
are still there.
Even though I usually
My relationship with
most invisible things is
that I trip over them.
On my face again
and this conversation, again.
You’re still here.
I was hoping if I ignored you,
you would just disappear.”
Even when I give the attention
that the invisible things need,
I usually only last for so long.
It’s just too easy to go back to
check-it-off the list
type of things.
The temptation is real to
only deal with visible.
But life is made of
invisible things, too.
When I ignore the invisible
I am living
a partial life,
I have to give myself
permission to see
and deal with
I’m learning that
a full, congruent life
includes integrating the invisible things
among the visible.
This way I run
instead of trip.
What invisible things are you tripping over? What needs your attention?
Are you living a whole life? You have permission to attend to the invisible things.
She said she feels like she is drowning.
I’m exhausted from treading water.
From trying to be it all and
do it all.
And feeling like a miserable failure
to top it all off.
So what’s a woman to do?
How do I let go of this not enoughness
that I keep coming back to?
Again and again.
I come back here.
To this place.
Limbs and heart and mind
tired of treading water.
I can’t wear a cape and
be not enough.
I think I am supposed to hold this
Not cling to it but daily
look at it.
See it for what it is.
See my need.
Say I am not enough and
with that acknowledgement, I say
I can’t do this on my own.
See, I am not the one
holding it all together.
All of the things that run through
my head and heart
on a given day are not resting on my shoulders.
Recognizing my not enoughness
is a reminder that
its not just up to me.
And trying my hardest,
staying up late, reading the latest book on discipline,
trying to spin all the plates
will always, every time
find me exhausted and
And so I turn to the One
who is enough.
Enough for all
for all of time and eternity.
I am weak – not enough
but He is strong.
And in this place…
Where I am not alone…
I am sensing you calling me
to be faithful
to what you have put before me.
Dreams are great
ambitions – necessary
but they can also distract from
what is here, in front of me.
My daydreams can pull
my gaze from the
path that is already laid out for me.
I am easily distracted
from what I am supposed
to be pouring myself into.
I should be doing what she is doing!
Oh, this is a new thing.
I should sign up for this today.
That’s a cool dream.
That should be my dream!
Meanwhile the things that you’ve
opened doors for
and there’s a real threat of
them just withering away.
Give me an urgency for
what you have put
help me to be
faithful to the
that you have brought to me.
Help me to fix my gaze on you
and trust you to order my steps.
Fill my heart with trust in you
and a confidence in what you have called me to
so the fear of not being enough
nor the fear of missing out
can shift my gaze.
Search for Kindling:
What is before you?
Are you choosing it?
Last night I sat in a candle-lit room –
the music unplugged and worshipful.
The lights were dimmed and the room was set up in a more intimate way.
We sat in the heaviness of it.
The burden of our sin he carried.
The weight of the betrayal from his friend.
It was a quiet, meaningful and rare type of moment.
I could hear the occasional rustling of paper from kids holding the song lyrics.
I heard sniffles and people shifting in their seats.
I could see their faces, and in some cases, their tears.
And they could see me.
Perhaps they saw me hold my finger to my lips to
remind my child that they needed to be still.
Or perhaps they saw my face when my son got up
from his chair to take communion on his own terms.
He didn’t need us to accompany him.
The sacrifice Jesus made was for him too
and he felt that deeply.
And so he went on his own.
Or maybe they saw my tears
and my brokenness showing through.
I was there because of the sacrifice made for me.
I was thinking about me and what Jesus gave for me.
However, in the midst of being seen,
in the midst of the little noises that
accompany a room full of people,
I was reminded again by the pastor’s words
that the way to honor Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice,
is to love as he loved.
To be seen, to exist – is supposed to also mean
that you are loved.
And I am part of that equation –
I am hands and feet.
His love through me –
a pouring out.
And so again, it isn’t just about me.
I should not be concerned about
saving a reserve for myself.
Jesus commanded us to live a life of community
on the night he was betrayed.
First in my own home
and then to the world around me.
I can’t be afraid of failing.
Or of not being enough.
Or of making a decision that is
contrary to the world around me.
These are lies born of fear.
And I am to live from a place of love
and not out of fear.
I am called to love out of the unfathomable love
that has been so freely given to me.
You see me here.
In this place that I would rather not be.
You see me.
And yet here I am.
Still in a place I would rather not be.
I guess I hoped you would pick me up and
move me like the iron on a monopoly board.
Move me to a place of
I’d like to pass go and collect my money, please
and move on from this space in time.
I am reminded as I fuss and fume
that you are all seeing and all knowing.
There’s so much I don’t know.
And so though I would like to not be here
in this spot that is costing me so much
it is where I am at today and perhaps will be
for an unknown amount of time.
I am here where I don’t want to be
but I am missing the obvious.
That you are with me.
I am not alone in my circumstances
but seen and loved in the midst of them.
You call to me in the places
that I don’t want to be.
You see me.
My desire for
is a desire that is fulfilled
by your presence
and not my circumstances.
And this is my greatest treasure.
I just finished a book that has a theme of being tethered to
The author has a beautiful way with words and is so deep.
I will reread her words and pray her prayers.
She practices being present.
I was talking to a friend tonight about the book
about how the author, Kaitlin Curtice, is so
And I said:
What if you don’t want to be where you are?
What do you do with that?
I admitted I didn’t know the answer.
When the moment is angsty and hard
and feels like a repeat of the day before
of attempting to climb the same slippery slope
and finding yourself stuck at the bottom again.
What does connected, tethered look like in that moment?
When it is a moment, a trial you would rather escape?
Is this just me?
Does anyone else feel this way?
Or maybe I am just super shallow.
Pining for a way out of the slippery icky mess.
as I sit here
I am reminded
striving produces strong.
Wading through mess makes your heart
Makes it stronger.
Makes it rely on something other.
Forces it to pick up the habit
of choosing joy over
another serving of bitter angst.
Maybe I am just in the process of
being tethered to the right things.
Perhaps the wading through the hard
forces me to set my mind on things above
while I am present in the now and the not yet.
I wonder if maybe what I am connected to
is not always what I can touch and see
but also to what I desire to be my reality.
Maybe longing is a form of being tethered.
Maybe the pursuit of connection
is part of the practice of being present.
My prayer is that God would meet me here
in the not yet,
in the becoming
where my tears add to
the slippery slope I am trying to ascend.