Yeah, so we really need a refill sometimes. 

And this week took it out of us and we fell into Friday with an exhaustion that seemed to overtake. Our lungs took in the air and exhaled confusion like it was the norm. Our clocks ticked loud, mocking our unfinished lists. Our friends begged for more of our attention. Our hearts even seemed to beat off beat. We scraped and scraped empty.

Because confusion leaves us running on fumes and everything takes precedence over the rest, right? And yet when we are overcome and overwhelmed we need the voice of our Father to guide. 

Yeah, we sure do need Him in the cracked times. We need, and I mean really need those Father arms to bend low and scoop us up and pat our backs and whisper, It’s all gonna be just fine. 

And we want the decision to make sense and the relationship to fall into place. We want good grades and open job opportunities. We want the clean health report. We want and sometimes even think we need life to just fall right in step with us. And it’s a God, I really need this, so can You just come through for me now? 

But frustration at our Father is never the answer. 

woman market

We so often forget that calling seasons are preceded by preparation seasons and those are the seasons we don’t call our favorites. Because when we wait and try this patience thing all of life seems to speed up. Others are finding soul mates. Others are landing corporate jobs. Others are traveling. Others are having babies. Others are cancer free. Others are making money. Others, others, others. 

But what about me? We whisper when we’re alone. What about my time and my season and my calling? What about the open door in front of me? What about. . . me? So often we berate ourselves for being selfish and easily forget we’re still human.

Our humanity will always clash with our faith because faith was not created out of humanity, but humanity was created out of faith. Does that make sense? As humans, we can’t adequately describe what came before. We can’t wrap our minds around invisible God and we sure can’t make sense of His plan. 

And if anything today, I just want to look you straight in the face and tell you that you’re not alone. I know it feels like days go by without another human encouraging you. Weeks pass without one morsel of good news. It’s been forever since you’ve had hope. You’ve begged for the open door and clear path.

And you’re tired. 

That’s okay. It’s okay to be tired and confused. And it’s okay to tell God that. He is not offended by our emotions. So the frustration you’re feeling now does not push Him to leave, it prompts Him to draw near. 

It’s not the frustration with our Father, but the faith in our Father that finally brings us some semblance of hope. 

assorted flowers

And there will be a day when you look back with wonder. Eyes filling with joyful tears, you will laugh as you piece it all together. He really did have a plan for me, you’ll say to yourself with surprise. He really did have His eye on me. 

So Fridays sometimes feel like this cracked leftover that somehow still remains. And we look at it like a foreign object infringing on what we knew at the beginning. How did I get here? Is there any hope? Yes, there is hope for you. Yes, you will make it. Yes, you are stronger than you think. Because Fridays and cracked leftovers aren’t evidence of the end. Fridays and cracked leftovers are evidence that you began.

Because someplace, somewhere you started fresh and were rejuvenated. You were whole and exuberant and optimistic. You were eyes-locked-with-Jesus-excited for what was to come. You were and. . . you still are. And the joy and the hope may be buried deep. It may even seem like only shadows are left as reminders of what once was, but you just can’t count yourself out. Not today.

There is still an ember of hope inside of you. I know it because you’ve made it this far in the post. You want to return to what was your beginning; when laughter was easy and dreaming was second nature. Dear one, you have forgotten that you’re still living. You’ve forgotten that if you’re still breathing, your dream and hope has not died. 

“I was right on the cliff-edge, ready to fall,
    when God grabbed and held me.
God’s my strength, he’s also my song,
    and now he’s my salvation.” -Psalm 118 MSG

I believe to my core that our Father is just like any other Dad. He wants us to soar high and love deep and belly giggle every day of our lives. He wants depression to vacate and sadness to leave. He wants your passions and desires to surface and burn bright. But sometimes, more than these, He just wants you. 

So what we confuse as failure and a static season, may really just be our Dad trying to get our attention for some one on one time.

And dreams begin in Heaven only to permeate our human hearts, so maybe we should give the ultimate Dreamer His chance at speaking again? Maybe we should slow down enough to sit still in His Presence and ask the question our hearts are begging: What do You think about all of this? 

He is the God Who brought water from a rock. He’s the One Who sent manna for millions. He is the very Man Who gave sight to dead eyes. Truthfully and everything on the table now? He’s the very One Who took a pile of dirt and made us. 

It’s safe to say He can bring forth life from our cracked places. He can reestablish the dream. He can rejuvenate the heart. He can put life, real life, back into our tired and weary souls. 

The only question that now remains is, will we let Him?

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