It's Tuesday. Tuesday is my "mommy day". My three-year-old goes to a friend's house from 9am-3pm and I get to do whatever I want with those six hours. It's glorious. It makes me a better mom and a better wife to have intentional space to breathe. So today I'm at Starbucks reading, writing, staring out the window, watching people come in and order venti frappachinos, with music in my ears and a chai latte in my belly. It's fall-ish weather here in Northern Illinois today and the air has a certain crispness to it. I am a summer girl myself, but I can't deny the beauty and newness of fall.
So friends, I've been in a season. Like a long and hard one. It started last October and I'm happy to say that I think I am finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. It's been a year full of insecurity about who I am as a mom, wife, and daughter of my heavenly father.
We all have junk, right? And by junk I mean emotional junk. We'll save the physical junk for another day. Some of our junk might have been dumped on us from other people. Some of it we acquired ourselves. And while some of us have 'carry-on luggage' sized junk, others of us have eighty pound, can barely pick it up off the ground, sized junk. The last year for me has felt like I've got more junk that I know what to do with you. More junk that I can bare to lift. Have you ever felt this way?
A lot of my junk comes from the absence of an earthly father in my life. I did not grow up knowing my biological father. As a kid I don't remember being mad at him specifically, just mad that there was a huge hole in my life. For many years I sought affirmation from men I thought might love me like a daughter. Some of those relationships were healthy, most were not. It really took me up until I got married (at the age of 24) to not feel the need in my heart for that kind of affirmation anymore.
But there's still a struggle that I'm working through. A struggle that only my heavenly father can fix.
When it comes to my relationship with Jesus, I am learning to believe and rest in these truths:
There's nothing I can DO to make Him love me any more or any less. This one is huge. And also, hard.
He created me, to love me. And He wants to me love Him back.
He is the ONLY one who can heal my broken heart.
There may be some plans He has for my life but it doesn't mean that I'm ready to walk in those plans. I need to trust in His timing, not my own.
I took a pause from this post to let it all just sit. I closed my laptop and starting driving home. As I drove, I began to think about how maybe one day I'll talk to my biological father again. I thought about all the questions I'd ask him. A part of me still cares about him not necessarily because he's my dad but because he's a person. A person who God loves, just as much as me. I find it hard to believe that he doesn't wish he knew all four of his kids more than he does. And anyone who's a parent can imagine the possibilities of that kind of pain. The pain of not knowing your own child. I wondered what it would be like to ignore one of my own children not just for years, but decades. Three decades, to be exact. I thought about all the seasons of my life in which I, myself, had been the ignorer. And then God said to me, "Courtney, even if you ignored me for 30 years, I'd still love you."
Because THAT is the magnitude of how much He loves us. And isn't it interesting how sometimes God uses the failures of this world to show us how He is NOT. How His character, actions, love, faithfulness, truthfulness is nothing like ours. Like actually, it's the opposite.
Have you ever ignored God for months, years, or maybe even decades? Well here's some good news... He still loves you.
I'll be 31 in a few months and there's still a lot of cleaning to do in the 'junk' department of my heart. But I rest in the HOPE of the one of loves me the most.