God has been revealing my heart to me greatly in the last few days. Our family has been sick nearing a month now. And we are looking as if we are on the mend. I don’t know if it was the isolation from community or the medication or the amount of television we watched, but I have been out of it.
I have been seeking God like I haven’t in a while. Like he’s been coaxing me out of a self inflicted comfort fog that had consumed me and my motives for living and parenting and loving my husband for a lot longer than this illness. Post partum depression hit me hard after both pregnancies. In fact I’m thankful for this sickness pulling me out of my numbness. I’m thankful for the unwavering and awe inspiring grace God has lavished on my through my husband. He has forgiven more than I thought I’d ever ask of him.
God. What he’s been doing in my life. He’s introduced me to a whole other side of himself. Knowing unconditional love when you are in such a place, is an unspeakable blessing.
God made me crave him again. It’s funny how sleepless nights, pain, and hard work cause us to rely more heavily on God. He uses our sin and our circumstances.
Anyway, I’ve been pained at how big my children are. Pained that I can’t make a perfect life for them. Pained that I have been far from a perfect parent. And God showed me that, that’s not why I am here. That’s not what I am doing. They aren’t my little possessions. They are his people, he is growing them. He has gifted me the opportunity to be his hands for these little ones.
He’s shown me that I can’t find my significance in anything but him. Not in being a doula, or a stay at home mom, or a married woman, or a graduate, or a non graduate by choice.
I am embarrassed, looking back at my Facebook feed and seeing, glaringly, how I seek approval from people through trying to fit into my church crowd or the doula crowd or the VCU crowd.
I still judge myself with comdemning voices from painting critiques or Facebook comments. I hear fresh in my mind, all of the careful instructions of well meaning bystanders, to be careful not to make my kiddos weird homeschoolers.
I won’t say “Not anymore.” Because though sin has been put to death in me, it is a continual putting to death. And even as I write this, I think of who will or will not read this and what they may think.
But in a sense, I have been truly freed, again, from all that sin has shackled me to. In Christ, I can stand, significant. No matter what my life’s work looks like at that moment. Because I’m not found in any title other than redeemed.