Fostering, HOPE

Love Is Hard.

This whole love thing.

Man is it hard.

Actually, when I asked God what I should write about next I heard a cuss-word. Now I’m not saying God has a potty mouth. I’m saying my brain is so toasted that I often think in overly-descriptive words. (And the Conservative Christian in me cringes.) Oh well. I meant it when I thought it. This love thing is more difficult than it seems.

And some days I’m just over it.


Why does God’s call on a life seem so dreamy and full of roses and then… (oops, cuss-word again.) Then it isn’t. It gets hard. Of course, God never promises that it will be easy. This is an oft quoted truth that has lost it’s meaning to most of us. But how come that calling can’t be satiating at any (or most) moments of the day?

I have to say, I’ve come to my wits end more and more recently. I want to throw in the towel and say:


“I give up.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Where is that dang easy button!?”

One can only pray that this is just a deeper understanding of myself and my limits, not the undoing of every last thread of sanity. Love is hard. Some days I don’t want to do it. Some days I just don’t do it. Some days I do the opposite. I’m not at all proud of those days. I WANT to want to love people! I want people to experience the freedom that I know exists. Complete freedom to be themselves. To live a life on purpose. Freedom to love and be loved; and in that love, to experience the Father. That’s what I want. I don’t want to forget that.

In case you think this is going to spiral any further, I have a solution. Eventually I make it to the same conclusion every single time I hit rock bottom. Every time I say “I can’t take another _______!” God reminds me so gently: “I miss you.” Oh yeah. I guess we haven’t talked in a while. Or even if we have, I need more conversation with Him! I guess I got too busy handling it all MYSELF and drowning MYSELF and loving people in MY OWN love, I forgot to look up and get refilled.

Have you ever read the book “You Are Special” by Max Lucado? I had a Math teacher in high school who used to postpone class once in a while and read to us. He made it a priority to remind us all of the value God sees in us. He would read us this story and pour into us the wisdom that he had gained from years of an intimacy with God. It’s an incredibly powerful book for so many reasons, and I have thought back on it hundreds of times throughout my life. This time I am reminded of the importance of visiting “the woodcarver” regularly.

Please take a minute (or 8 1/2) to listen to the story even if you’ve heard it before!!

I’m sad to admit that I haven’t been to visit the Woodcarver in much too long (of course, “too long” is defined differently for each of us and for each season we’re in…). I’ve been relying on myself without making the conscious decision to. I also know that when I am in the presence of my Papa (even for just the tiniest (or frequently interrupted) moment!) I am changed. The dots and stars (and cuss-words) of this world no longer stick and I am able to reflect onto others that very same freedom.

Thanks, God, for being so gentle with my burnt-out heart.

And Thanks for inviting me to spend time with you even after I’ve been away for a while.

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