If I'm Being Honest

If I’m being honest

I’m seeking to be seen

Because You’ve forgotten

about meeting all my needs.

I know You once parted the Red Sea

But where’s the manna for me?

I struck the rock once to take care of Your sheep

So why do I find myself alone in the dark valley

Aren’t you supposed to lead?

If I’m being honest

It feels like You lied to me

 

You said “Harvest”

But all I see is desert

You said “Joy”

But what I got is jaded.

You said “Rest”

But what You gave was chaos

You promised Healing

But all I feel is broken.

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You brought me to the mountain top, and the view was worth the climb. 

Springtime Blossoms in their fullest.

After chest pain and lung issues, I got to rest on top of the world with stars as companions.

I could breathe the freshest air, my lungs filled with untainted satisfaction

My burdens below my feet, my baggage lifted

Peace

I fell asleep that night on top of the mountain, on top of the world, thinking You led me through the miserable climb to show me greater things.

I closed my eyes with my lips curling into a smile, knowing I could finally rest and wake up with joy in the morning.

But I woke up dazed and confused

I couldn’t see properly, everything was hazy, I felt dizzy and heavy, labored and sore

So sore, something was broken

Like I had been hit by a bus

When I looked up, I realized my fate was worse

I had fallen off the mountaintop

No, not fallen

I had been pushed.

No, not pushed.

Shoved, launched, dumped off the mountaintop

And woke up in the valley – dark, blinding, and cold

False springtime

With my Savior nowhere in sight

 

I know my enemy pushed me off, cruel and evil, attacking me at my moment of rest

But what about You, God? I know my enemy is evil, but You? You’re supposed to be good.

How could you allow the thief to come and steal this joy, this rest from me?

 

Yet, I pressed on.

Trudging through the valley of the shadow of death

Knowing You were somewhere close

I reached a clearing and my heart leaped for joy

But it sank quickly to my toes when I realized it was just a break in the trees

We were still in the valley

I trudged on

And reached another clearing, again my heart leapt for joy

To get smashed down to my feet

Upon realizing it was the same disillusioned clearing

I had simply walked in circles

A third time, a clearing appeared and joy danced around me

Quickly muted by the devastation of realizing I had walked in circles – again

I’m never going to get it right.

It’s not going to change.

I fell asleep that night with dark shadows as companions

No miracles left for me

But as sunlight came, so did my resolve

But there was no more anticipation, no more excitement

The joy had been jaded, misled, misused

Only myself to blame, anger burned

Finally, the trees of the valley thinned

And the dark forest ended

The real clearing lies up ahead

Joy surged, but I caught it in my fist, keeping it on a leash this time lest it disappoint me again

Good thing

Because my feet reached the clearing and all I saw from horizon to horizon

Was desert.

Devasting.

But I walked on. Now numb. Why should I care when You don’t?

A well full of water.

I’m unmoved.

A sandstorm.

I’m unmoved.

A basket of bread.

I’m unmoved.

A thief in the night.

I’m unmoved.

Good, bad, pretty, or ugly.

It all looks the same to me now.

 

Sand in my eyes, blurred vision

Parched heart, Torched hope,

What exactly do You expect from me?

 ------------------------------------------------

They expect me to hold the weight without breaking

Walk through fire without burning

Take the punches without bruising

Still, I bleed.

Where are Your promises for me?

 

Becoming Unwintered: The Beauty of Springtime Blossoms

How did I forget that Spring had blossoms? 

The sound of mowers in the background, the smell of freshly cut grass, the feeling of wind rippling through your shirt on a bike ride, the neighborhood garage sales. This is spring.

I snuck home for a friend’s wedding and some family functions which just so happened to all be in one month! And I have been captivated by the trees here (ironic because I wrote a blog about the beauty of death [Fall]) But oh! What blossoms! What beauty there is in new life!

How did I forget that spring had blossoms?

The purple with a tint of pink, the white with a hint of purple. Royal, pure delight. How did I forget?

This spring, how timely, how wonderful, how symbolic. My winter season (2024) had numbed me to my bones. A previous spiritual director had told me that I seemed “bone-tired.”

A frost-bitten heart.

They say, “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.” I must be the fool of them all, because over and over, I think the best and see the best in others, only to be betrayed, blamed, rejected, lied to, manipulated. Lies. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. A sudden turn of character from someone I’ve known for over a decade. Confusion, aggression, threats. Case opened. Other disappointments by colleagues or peers, trust challenged. And then of course the heartbreak of losing my own to poor decisions or just plain rebellion, but being a constant revolving door – people coming into my heart, and people going out.

A frost-bitten heart.

Bitten by betrayal, frosted by the repetition of it. For the first time in my ministry life, last year my heart went cold. “I don’t want to be someone’s leftovers, their fallback plan. I don’t want to be the bandaid or the rotating door, people coming in and out,” I wrote in my journal.

Painted on smiles and pretend hugs, when behind my back, my heart is spit on, my work mocked, like a beautiful painting I spent years mastering, just to get a blob of paint thrown on it. That’s the feeling of failure. Beauty turned to trash. Once a visionary, now a stained vision. I didn’t know who to trust. Not even myself.

At the end of last year, I was home for three months, but I didn’t call and check on the girls or anyone back home. I didn’t want to. I was numb, cold. Like my toes after having fallen through the ice when I was younger. I don’t remember how old I was, maybe 10, but we were ice skating and there was a tiny patch of thin ice. The crackle was too quick to be an alarm, and the ice broke beneath my skates. I only fell through to my chest, catching myself on the strong edge of ice with my arms. My family had to pull me up, and while my mom roasted my toes over the fire for the next hour, to this day, they still freeze up at early signs of cold. I never thought my heart would ever feel like my stone-cold toes.

Journal Entries:

Dec 3^rd: I’m worried I won’t be ready to leave. I’m not ready now. What is this unsettling feeling? It terrifies me. I’ve never felt it before. What if it doesn’t go away? What if things don’t change? Why am I not aching to get back and see everyone like I used to do? What’s wrong with my heart?”

Dec 14: “I feel like I’m stuck in this darkness, waiting to be taken to the light. But it’s like You’re waiting for me instead. Me, sitting in my anger and pity because I’m afraid even in the light, I won’t be happy. I’m afraid nothing will change.”

I was on the plane flying back to Swazi on Dec 30th and writing in my journal; I begged God to change something – anything, because I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t excited to return for the first time in all my 16 years of traveling (since 2008). I was simply numb. Like a stubborn layer of snow, the fear refused to melt even when the sun came out. I felt like a failure – I couldn’t heal the way I planned to.

I wrote: “I am so deeply wounded. I wanted to be healed before I returned. I wanted to be fixed, strong, whole…I am none of it. I am broken, weak, fractured. Sad. Bracing myself for impact.”

Fear. So much fear.

In God’s goodness, amid my innumerable what-ifs and fear, the Holy Spirit stopped me in my tracks with, “What if it’s better than you’ve ever had before?”

That alone restored some hope. Not because I was good, whole, strong, or happy. But because I knew God was all I couldn’t be. I wanted to go home strong and healed and whole, so I didn’t have to feel like a failure. He wanted me just as I am. So He could remind me, He is the hero in this story, and His love never fails.

Dec 30^th: "I’m sitting in Dubai and feeling a sudden rush of uncertainty and fear. But I declare I am because You Are. You are strong enough, wise enough, trustworthy enough. You are a miracle-working God, a Transformer, a Deliverer, a Redeemer. Come and redeem my heart to be on fire like Yours again. Jesus, transform my fear and anxiety into courage and peace.  I want to love well even when I’m wounded and weak.

Even if my stomach doesn’t settle, even if my mind still races, my heart is secure in You.”

Nothing extraordinary happened when I arrived. Nothing notable. I didn’t feel strong but I knew His love for me. Peace. And I knew He wanted to heal me His way, on the very grounds in which my deepest wounds had been afflicted.

Jan 3^rd: "I feel like a twist cone, or twizler candies wrapped together as one…a side of joy, energy, contentment but mixed with blood red color tinged with layers of sadness, heaviness, apathy, avoidance. But I am here. I came back. Not to run or hide or avoid it. I came back to do something extraordinary. To love anyway.”

Looking back, no big moments marked my healing, but winter indeed had ended.

I simply showed up each day, took each day as it was, one day at a time. And soon, I was laughing like I couldn’t stop. Giggling at things that I couldn’t remember laughing at before. Enjoying and playing like a kid again. There was a deep, unspeakable joy. A forgiveness that seeped from under the once snow-covered branch, now a sprout of new life.

The transition from winter to spring is not sudden. It’s painfully long. Day after day, it seems like nothing changes, and then one day everyone is out in their shorts and tank tops, as if winter never happened. That’s how healing came for me. Not suddenly, not in an extraordinary moment, but in the simple graces of every day life, warming up my heart just one degree at a time. One degree. Small changes that don’t seem to matter until the “one degree” changes everything. One degree difference and a water droplet freezes. One degree difference and water boils. Oh, the power of one.

One little hand holding mine. 

One kiss on the cheek. 

One prayer from a friend. 

One hand-written Valentine’s Day card. 

One hour of cleaning my house. 

One apology. 

One night of cooking dinner for me. 

One by one by one. Love came daily. 

Only this time, I was unwintered enough to see it.

Fall used to be my favorite season for as long as I can remember. But oh, the Springtime! How did I ever forget about Springtime blossoms? They have captivated me this year. The delicacy of their scent, the delicacy of their colors, the delicacy of their petals but the power it represents! Behold it. Breathe it in. Spring, the season of hope! It changes everything.

Oh, how my cup runneth over with springtime blossoms.