I’m sitting on my couch in the morning quietness laughing at Tux because he keeps rolling off onto the floor and then springing back up as if nothing happened.
]]]]78ghol; <—he contributes to my blog post.
There is so much going on in my life right now that I feel as if I can do none of it well, but I desperately need to do all of it well. At my job we are short staffed and are making a big push for making our yearly goals so I’m there almost constantly, which is okay since I really do like the people I work with but it makes me feel like my home is going to ruin. I haven’t done laundry in weeks and garbage piles up like it’s a slop pit.
My design business is going great, but I have clients waiting for stuff and I freak myself out that I’m not talented enough to make what they want. I have to remind myself (and listen to my husband) that anything I don’t know how to do I can learn how to do, which is always what I’ve done before.
And then there is money, loans, children, vaccinations, appointments, projects…
2’23]p- <—hello, tuxington. yes, we see you.
In all of the stress that I bring on myself, through that fog I tell Jason the things I’m worried about and he says, “Trust! Why can’t you just trust?” And through his voice I hear Jesus.
Trust me, Beth.
I’m a good truster for maybe 5 minutes before the worry clouds my eyes again and I’m lost.
I am still good. I am still faithful. I still love you. I still care for you.
I have not finished with your life. I have not given up on you.
You are still my beloved because I have chosen you.
Nothing that you do will drive me from you.
I am your Father, let me love you.
Let me show you who I am.
But I’m lazy, and disorganized. And on top of that I’m even mean sometimes and I forget to do the important stuff, I make fun of people and I let people down and I need someone to help me pull it together which is the whole point.
I don’t have to be strong or good or holy because HE is all of those things.
My friends and family love me because of who they are, not because of what I do.
Trust, just trust.
Advent helps me learn to wait, to wonder what it must have been like to be oblivious of the age old promise being fulfilled right next door, to be the one who had no room to share. The ones who knew the promise had come, the angels who had been following the story, the earth who had been groaning for centuries could rejoice because they knew God had set his rescue into motion, but everyone else was too tied up in their own lives to see the workings of God.
As Christmas creeps closer, I rejoice.