Tuesday, August 9, 2011


We have a garden center nearby that is more like a botanical garden than a regular 'ole garden place and while the prices reflect that (hellooooo, pricey!) it is a really fun place to go and browse around and get ideas from.

Which is exactly what we did on Sunday afternoon...the Sunday afternoon where we overslept and missed church.


In the midst of strolling hand in hand with that guy that I like so much,  I couldn't help but think about last weekend and how I was in Chicago,  escaping from all the worry and stress I have been going through in the last few months...and how thankful I am that I was able to take some time away for just me.

I was feeling broken and worn down and sad and frustrated and like a total failure as a mother.  I'm sure everyone has those feelings at one time or another but this time, with me, it had reached a head.  I needed to escape for a bit, to recharge.

The worst part about all of those feelings is that I had lost my ability to pray.  I didn't lose my faith in my God, I knew he was there, but I lost the ability to pray to Him.  I just didn't know what to say anymore...I mean,  I would start out praying and then just let it fade away into nothingness.

But that nothingness is still heard by God's ears because He knows my heart and so I knew that He was hearing me...and I was OK with that.  

But I missed my God.  I felt like He was very, very, very far away.

And then it happened.  It was my 2nd night in Chicago and I climbed, exhausted from a very full and loud and fun day, into bed.  I texted with that guy that I like so much (wishing more than anything that he was with me, but thankful he was holding down the fort back home), made the pillows into a 'v' shape (laying myself smack dab in the middle of the bed...which is exactly where one should sleep when they are sleeping alone) and started my nightly prayers.

 I felt myself at Jesus' feet.  I felt his hand on my head.  I felt him and I heard him whisper to me.

And for the first time in a very, very, very long time...I listened.  I gave it all to Him.  I surrendered.  

And then I slept.  Deeply.

(just had to buy ANOTHER lemon tree...this time a meyer lemon)
I guess what I need to constantly remember (and be reminded of) is that I am not walking alone.  Or even just with that guy that I like so much.  I need to stop trying to figure it all out, all the time, all by myself.

I need to surrender.


  1. I am near sobbing. If I weren't in my cubicle, I'm sure I would be. When I was in WA this past weekend running (ok, we really did stroll at times it was fun) with the gals I hadn't seen in 12 years, we had a very similar conversation. One of the gals can't have any more babies and she too was prayer-less for a season. What does this teach me...1. I am surrounded by remarkable women of faith who inspire me because y'all are real and just like the rest of us, are held together by Jesus...not by us trying to hold it together. So, once again, your honesty brings hope and remains a blessing to the masses. Love you!

  2. You know what else it teaches me...I can't count past 1. ;)

  3. I agree with Ingrid... And I'm writing Ruth to take a look at this post, too, now that she's back in 'reality' which doesn't always feel right to her and never easy. You've experienced Jesus in a remarkable & personal way, that doesn't happen just 'everyday', at least in my life. It's a good reminder to thank him for the times he 'shows up' for me, too.'God inhabits the praises of his people' so back to praising!

  4. Sweet Friend,
    we all have those times in our lives where everything just feels so awful that we can't get past the circumstance to even reach out to God. I remember one time sobbing and saying no one cared about my trouble not even God. I think though that in a way our non-prayers in these times ARE prayers. Because God does know the circumstances and our hurt, He knows the heart of each of us and even when we aren't speaking to Him, He is still speaking to us. Just like with our kids! Even when they are mad at us, slamming doors, and giving us the silent treatment, we are still loving them and talking them, waiting for a response.


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