Yesterday was one of those days.
The sermon at church resurfaced some hard questions that constantly, quietly linger in my soul. Why did Evelyn die? Why does God choose to physically heal some people this side of heaven but not others? Why God? Why? I wasn’t mad. I know he is good. I know he is loving. I still cling to the hope of heaven. But the tears and the sadness were palpable. I fled from church as quickly as I could, desperately avoiding conversations with people because it’s hard to mingle when my heart is aching and the forceful dam of tears is about to burst forth.
I was thankful to have some quiet, alone time while Caleb was napping and Preston was out helping a friend for the afternoon. I tried writing to process my emotions. But I wound up feeling annoyed at my inability to turn my feelings into words. Writers block. Emotional constipation. Call it what you will. It felt like a step backward. Not only was I sad. Now I was frustrated.
Then the power went out twice. And I smelled burning rubber in the laundry room. I tried calling Preston five times and never got a hold of him. The A/C wasn’t working. The fan wouldn’t turn on. The house smelled like a car repair shop gone bad. My emotions were compounding. Sadness, frustration and now irritation.
When Preston came home, he was level-headed and patient. I was moody and lacking grace. He mentioned how nice it would be to go swimming as a family since everything was so hot (including my mood). Maybe a cool dip would refresh us. We thought about asking a few of our friends with pools if we could come over, but our pride won, and we agreed that it was too awkward to invite ourselves over (even though our friends are AWESOME and they often give us open invitations to come over any time, even if they aren’t home).
So we went to the grocery store instead. Because it’s air conditioned.
When we got home, Preston was getting ready to fill up our plastic toddler pool with frigid hose water. Hooray. (sarcasm) But before he even had the chance, I received a group text from a dear friend, inviting us over to her house to swim with her family that evening.
You guys, this is grace. I was wholly unpleasant to be around the entire day, battling with my sadness and wallowing in my quickly downward-spiraling mood. But God loved me anyway. I didn’t even ask him to help me, but he willingly came to me and met me in my mess – freely, generously covering me with his grace.
We spent a long evening with our friends. My fearless two-year-old son jumped off the small diving board a few times. We enjoyed laughter and good conversation. We ate food that I didn’t have to cook. We stayed out too late and never once felt bad about it.
I came home feeling so lighthearted. So full of joy. So loved. I’m humbled at the intimate love of my Heavenly Father. He knows my needs. He looks past my sour moods and sees a hurting mama heart that’s badly in need of grace.
Do you know why I’m convinced today that God loves me? He invited me to a pool party. And he used my friends as the conduit for his invitation.
My soul echos these healing, filling, comforting, hopeful words from Psalm 103…
1 Praise the Lord, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the Lord, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits…
who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s…
8 The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love…
13 As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
14 for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust…
17 But from everlasting to everlasting
the Lord’s love is with those who fear him…
22 Praise the Lord, my soul.
In other news, our power is back on.