This rhythm of hope and grief, hope and grief, hope and grief... it is growing a callous of trust in my heart. The skin is getting thicker. My spiritual muscles toughen as again I am invited to hope, again I am invited to lament, again I am invited to trust God more this month than I did last month.
I've come to wonder...what does my incessant striving say about what I believe about myself? About the Gospel? What does your striving say about you? Where can we find rest?
In our success and image-driven culture, we feel the pull to keep doing, because what we do is what we will be known for, right? Working hard is what will make us happy and successful, right? That is what will finally give us the peace we have been craving, right?
Right?.... Maybe not...
I pray that I would experience beautiful moments. Not post them. Not even take a picture of them. Just capture them in my mind. Remember them.
I pray that I would remember the exquisite beauty in the mundane. The wonder of what is happening right here in front of me. In my very ordinary life.
I'm praying these things for you too.
Could it be that maybe the most important moments are the ones that aren't documented? The conversations that aren't recorded? The sunsets that aren't photographed? The kitchen dance parties that aren't videoed? The flitting in-between moments that you can't capture?
Could it be that disconnecting is precisely how we'll reach deeper connection?
I used to think life was about chasing those magical, golden hour, butterflies in your stomach, warmth running through your veins moments. Those top of the mountain moments that make you feel alive and full of purpose and meaning. I used to think that the dull, ordinary moments were just to be endured or ignored on the way to those warm and wonderful moments...