I was so happy to get out for a run today. With the kids on break and then all of us trapped at home in cold and snow, my workouts were relegated to a run or walk on the treadmill staring at Netflix (Call the Midwife and Blackfish) or reading a book. It was certainly not a terrible setup, and I enjoyed the lazy mornings with my growing-up-too-fast babies. However, my swirling, introverted mind was pushing back at the constant stimulation of kids, insisting, "I need some space!"
So, it was with relief that I sent them on their way this morning and headed out on my usual route through the neighborhood and down the road to a nearby park. I was loving the quiet in my head that left plenty of room to have a much-needed conversation with God.
I've had this unsettled, uncomfortable feeling--like I'm wearing clothes that are too heavy and a little too tight--for quite some time. I suppose it worked its way into my conscious mind after the visitation of my childhood friend right before Christmas. He had died in a car crash, and though I hadn't seen him in years, the thudding reality that he was no longer in this world was painful. My kids were with me at the visitation and saw me crying as I greeted his parents and brother. My oldest expressed dismay at my tears, but I explained that my sadness was a sign that I grew up with a lot of love and good friends in my life. He seemed to understand that, but my own words haunted me over the next few days.
I have been well-loved, and that realization shone a bright jarring light on some ways in which I am not loving well as I live my life. One situation in particular has been weighing on me; I know I should be doing a better job of demonstrating the love of Christ, but I have let myself be so overcome with anger and resentment that I just can't seem to find a way through. My internal dialogue has been active: it's like, "yeah, I get, it, Jesus didn't hold back His love from me when He went all out and died on the cross, so I have no business withholding love from anyone!" And my head is full of all the reasons why I need to get my act together--"do unto others", "judge not lest ye be judged", the whole "Good Samaritan"-thing, "love your neighbor", etc.
I know, too, that the anger and resentment are simply the manifestation of sin in my heart, that there's something--a lie--behind them that I am holding onto. I'm well acquainted with the sinfulness of my heart that values my own comfort and order so much that I don't trust the God of the Universe, who took the original chaos and made it into, well, everything, to take care of my minute, tiny little life. Sigh. We're working on that, God and I.
But I can't wait until that sin is gone before I try to love like Jesus, and that's where I was this morning, finally able to lay it out there with God--"Help me! What is wrong with me? I know I dishonor You every time I give a cold shoulder, but I can't seem to do any better! Please! I NEED YOU!" So, a couple miles in, I reached the park, where I have had countless talks with God while I run, and softly, just as I passed the shelter and started around the playground, it hit me in the form of memories, of times really not so long ago, when there were good things in the relationship which is now in such turmoil--there was caring and fumbling attempts to relate and warm feelings. And then memories of an even shorter time ago, when there was a crisis, and I was able to reach out and hold a hand and mean it, to hug and even kiss a cheek--to show love, because I felt love. In His mercy I saw how it's been and who I've been before.
I felt such peace in those memories, and relief to know that I did, indeed, have it in me. I recalled how, during that crisis time, I told friends that it was "by the grace of God" that I had been able to love well. I see now how true that was.
God didn't tell me anything I didn't already know this morning, but He was so gentle and gracious in His reminder that it--this life, my love, everything--is ALL by His grace and not my squeezing, frustrated efforts. It was as if He said to me--"I know you have it in you, and it is worth pursuing, so keep at it; I'll help you."
I have no illusions that, the next time I'm faced with this particular part of our life, I'll be breezing by with a completely open heart, but I feel so much more comfortable with the possibility of it, and truly hopeful. I feel so much strength in my humanity today, but only because of my faith in Jesus and His strength and Spirit as it flows into my life.
Zechariah 4:6
Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the LORD of hosts.
