The beautiful truth of the muck

 I want to write flowing words of gratitude and joy, but if I did do that in this moment I would be putting on a mask and guarding my authenticity.  How can I find peace and be real if I live in a state of hiding? 

 My heart is a bit full of muck right now... I'm struggling to see past the muck and into the beauty.  I do know it's there, tonight though...I am going to allow myself to be so very real and share my heart as is.  I know God is doing His healing as I grieve.  I believe I am growing through these uncomfortable times and that the end result will be used to glorify God.  Tonight though...I'm just not feelin' it. 

What do I feel?  Heavy.  Burdened.  Angry.  Afraid.  Betrayed.  Hateful.  Unsure.  Insecure.  Void of options.  Broke. Raw. Unmotivated.  Sad. Guilt ridden.  Insufficient.   And oddly enough, thankful. 

Thankful.  thankful.  I'm thankful for the hope I feel in what is to come; the ick feelings are for the uncertainty of now.  I am only going to allow myself to feel the ickiness for a little while and once I have welcomed it in I will kick it out in the cold....for now though it is a part of me that I must search out and speak to in order to be whole.  I hope that makes sense.  It does to me, and I guess that is truly all the matters.

Some of life...

A phone conversation with my Daddy lately goes something like this...
(He calls me by pushing auto dial on his phone and I answer...)
Me:  Hi Daddy.
Dad:  Hi there.  Who have I got here?
Me:  It's Sarah.
Dad:  Who?
Me:  Sarah
Dad:  Sa-va?
Me:  No, this is Sarah.
Dad:  Oh...Sa-va.  Which one have I got here?  (this can continue for a good bit)
Me:  How are you?
Dad:  As long as I'm standing, it's a good day  OR not so good, I'm in trouble here  OR  Do you know where I am, I really do want to go home (he is home), I don't care for it here.

This is just one little variation.  And God bless, I love this man with my whole heart.  I love to have his big, warm hand wrapped around mine.  I love how he tells me he sure does love me (unless he thinks I'm not me, in which case he does not say anything but 'thank you' because he is happily married and his wife wouldn't care for him saying something different.)  But I hate this Alzheimers.  It says horribly ugly things sometimes and it steals the expression from my Daddy's eyes and replaces it with a lost, afraid and blank gaze.  I HATE IT.  I adore my Momma.  I adore how tender she is with my Daddy (even when she believes she is not).  I love how she protects his dignity when he cannot.  I love her love for this man.  I hate the weariness I see in her eyes, the slowness in her step and the hard truth that I cannot change this.  The yuck muck.

Marriage....home life....blah blah blah.  Home is still my favorite place to be and these magnificent babies (okay, they are 12 and 8) but always my babies and precious husband bless my heart immensely.  Struggling we are but we are finding a new normal.  I hope it's a temporary normal until we find our real rhythm and connection again.  Just when I begin to forget that we are struggling right now I remember. Reality  can be so painful and from the pain can come beauty....I guess that's more of the beautiful truth of the muck.

Tomorrow we are attending a very significant meeting.  It's one with old friends who are no longer friends.  Through our past relationship, my very definition of friendship has been drastically changed.  Stinks.  Praying for resolve.  Praying for peace and for nothing but truth to be revealed beyond a doubt.  In this I feel like I am sinking in muck....still searching for the beauty.

I am stressed and Christmas is coming.  I 'should' not be feeling stressed and so then I add guilt to the mix.  Why not?  Family drama is lurking.  Geographical boundaries are sometimes needed but always wounding.  Praying for healing, conviction and peace.  Ugliness.


As we are smack in the middle of the muck this verse comes to mind....
Jeremiah 29:11  'For I know the plans I have for you', declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.' 

There my friends is the beautiful truth of the muck.