I stayed home from church on Sunday to spend time with God. It was good, satisfying in a way church isn't. I sat in our "nursery" with some worship music playing, tears streaming, and this intense feeling that my soul was being sucked out of me. I've never spent so many days bawling my eyes out only to be left with the feeling that the breaking isn't done. That this is the easy part, that I have more heaving, relinquishing, sorrow and surrendering ahead of me...

I'm locked in a battle of wills with God. Any odds on who will win? See I've known for a while that God has been calling, begging actually, for me to sit with him in an unhurried way. But I keep running, over scheduling, deliberately ignoring. Why?

I'm scared.

I have this gut feeling that has grown into a heart sense that our miscarriages weren't necessarily a bump in the road, but rather a starting point to surrender. I've been play acting surrender and death-of-self for years, actually since I was a medium sized child. Now He's calling me to serious surrender and I'm having a rather adult sized tantrum. It's no longer about me giving Him my praise in the depths of sorrow, knowing a blessing will come. No. The faith level is being ratcheted up. This, as far as I can figure, is more about me praising, loving, and trusting while He strips layer after layer of all the dreams and hopes and yes promises that I've clung to leaving me still praising, loving and trusting Him. No strings attached. Resting solely in the knowledge that whatever He takes away I will respond with "Lord blessed be your name."

When I meditate these are His thoughts that choke me:
  • What if I never give you a child?
  • What if my blessing isn't a family but a deeper faith?
  • Surrendering does not guarantee a blessing.
  • Aren't I enough?
I wrestle. I know the "Christian" response, but my flesh and spirit do not cheerfully respond.

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