Days of Our Lives

Some years simply need to settle into the soil like so much fertilizer. 
Hibernation for the winter sounds pretty good. But 'tis the season for reflection, right? 

The nuclear dust has settled. God has given good gifts. And continues to. I just wish it had been someone else's mess of a manure pile.

A quiet depression has come in holding hands with resentment. No cause. No event. Just regret turning in on itself. I have let it sit too long without remembering God's promises. As if saying, "thank you for this long list of miraculous changes, but..." 
Perhaps my expectations have returned. Of being a good mother. Being a wife. Being a sister, daughter, friend. With what I think that means. Being useful. And my patience is no longer my strong suit. That feels strange. Christmas is upon us and I can't seem to pull it all together, yet. The drive is gone and that's a little frightening.
So, patience, patience, patience, lest I become stuck. 

Remembering.
It's been a year unlike any other.
Facing demons in the mirror. The absolute horror of my selfish heart. Imploding under all my expectations. The kicking and screaming of a spiritual temper tantrum. A lifetime of bottled-up rage exploding on those around me. Fear. A lot of fear. A letting go of all control and learning to trust God with all the uncertainty, even as He pried my hands off, finger by finger. Fighting death. Fighting destruction. Fighting to even want to fight. All of the miracles along the way. The unexpected grace from friends who demonstrate Christ's love without blinking. The balm of fears unrealized. Renewed relationships once thought unretrievable. Learning to practice loving enemies. (let's be real.... still working on that one, folks) Watching the new creation that my hubs has become. Wrestling with what that means about my own spiritual walk.
Idol-slaying.
Sacrificing.
Honesty.
Truth.
Relief. 
And a lot of fumbling. 

Knowing I've chosen to give things up for a purpose, I still sit in feeling useless.
I confess.
I fight resentment. I still feel out of place. Wibbly-wobbly. 
Here's me, blogging all the things I've tried so long to hide
 "Ask her, she has nothing better to do.....,"  is what I hear. Silly and childish, I know.
I KNOW.
Funny how easy it is to slip back into this mindset. To let that depression wrap around my heart like a warm blanket, until it chokes the truth out.
So, back to remembering what is true.
God, will I ever get it?
Asking, because I already know the promise in the answer.   

"As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience."  Luke 8:15

Patience as the rain finally falls. The soil is stinkin', but has been readied. 

Maybe I just need to go see Star Wars again.
Or listen to a little Queen.