Have you ever had that friend who you rarely see, but when you get together, it’s as if you were just hanging out yesterday?
I hope that, maybe, you feel that way about me… and this blog.
Because, it’s been almost four months since we’ve gotten together, but I’d like for us to start hanging out some more again.
And I hope that it feels just like we are old friends… catching up.
You see, I got a teaching job again (yay) and I really enjoy it (yay) and I love the differences that I’m making in kids’ lives (yay). But it was wayyyyyyyy more of a change than I realized (eek) and I was wayyyyyyyyy more busy than I realized I’d be (eek) and I was subsequently wayyyyyyy more tired than I realized (eek). So, the hubs and I decided to tuck the blog into maintenance mode for a few weeks (which unfortunately turned into MONTHS) to help me because I had shifted 100% into pure, unadulterated survival mode. If hashtags worked in blogs, then I’d hashtag this paragraph #ItsHarderThanIRememberedToBeAWorkingMom
Anyway, I’m truly, purely sorry to have worried some of you, and I genuinely appreciate those of you that tracked me down to find out what was going on! I can’t promise that I’ll be a daily poster like I have been in the past, but I really want to get back with you guys… back to my writing… back to my reading… back to my covenant… and most importantly…
back to God.
For I have wandered… far, far from Him.
With every pound I gained, I grew angrier and angrier at Him. And then I’d gain another pound, and as I packed on the weight I was packing in bitterness and brokenness in my heart.
So, then I just threw my hands up. Said, Forget it. Who cares anyway. You’re getting fat struggling… might as well just dive on in and enjoy it. And yeah, well, here’s the spoiler for the ending to that story (but I’m pretty sure you know that it won’t be much of a shocker if you are in the same boat as me):
I didn’t enjoy it.
I hated it. More than I hated it before. And I got fat. Fat again.
And the more I hated getting fat, the more I continued to dive in, the more I was angry at God, the more I ate, the more I gained, the fatter I got.
But, then, I numbed myself to it.
Ohhhhhhhhh, my friends… the numbness. That is more danger to our relationship with God than anger… any day. I just couldn’t find solace in the bible. I couldn’t find solace in my prayers. I couldn’t find solace at church. I couldn’t find solace… an.y.where.
I was numb.
And the numbness… hurt worse.
It’s the worst pain.
Because it’s not living. It’s death. Being numb to all of the feelings and challenges and hopes and dreams and hurts and disappointments… that’s not living. It’s dying.
So, in a weird little twist of events that range from me cleaning out my bookshelf and finding my One Year Bible to reading some article about how screen time is bad for your eyes and sleep… I started to read that thing before bed. Not really expecting anything to change. And it didn’t… at least, not right away. My heart was hard, cold, frozen.
But over the past few weeks I have felt my heart… slowly, slowly, slowly start to soften a bit. Slowly, slowly, slowly begin to let God back into little parts of my life. Cautiously… but hopefully.
And hopefully, even though I bailed on you guys out of nowhere… hopefully, you’ll be willing to step out on this journey with me again.