Blessings. noun. A bestowment of good, a prayer asking for God’s favor.
This Monday, you’re restless. You want to do something, but you don’t know what. You’re hollow, but you don’t know what will fill the loud, echoing emptiness. You’re wrestling, and you don’t know how to win. You’re feeling alone, and you don’t know how to find hands to hold. You’re stuck, and you don’t know how to find momentum.
When you’re in these places, you try. You spin your wheels and make the lists and try, try, try to fix things.
But you can’t. You won’t.
Sure, you can do something. You can partner with God. You can make those plans and call those people and type those words and move when he kicks your butt off the couch.
But you cannot heal your own fragile soul. You cannot make yourself whole.
That restless yearning? That hunger for more, more love and more trust and more deep, rich life? Doll, you can’t fix that.
Only he can.
Let him do his work. Let it be slow and surprising. Let him crack your fragile heart so he can mend it, making it more whole and more beautiful than before. Let him hold you and comfort you and spread his peace like a blanket over you. Let yourself be broken and beloved, both at once. Let him be with you and for you and in you. Let him be God.
Blessings on your week, friend.