Tuesday, September 24, 2013

unlucky 13

The other day I talked to a friend on the phone for the first time in a long time and she made a comment about how fun my life seemed. & I laughed. Not that my life isn't fun, but I think instagram gives a great facade. In reality, my day-to-day life sometimes seems so mundane it brings me to tears. Literally. 

There are days when I am certain that God has me here for a purpose. I think He gives me little glimpses of His plan to encourage me. But, most days, I struggle. 

This year has been hard. Isn't 13 supposed to be lucky? I think they might be wrong. I buried four people I love this year. After my grandpa passed away this summer, I prayed, "if someone else passes please let it be me because my heart couldn't possibly survive another loss." 

Last night I went to fall asleep and randomly thought about our beloved family dog, Blake, who passed away in 2011. I don't know what sparked the memory, but my heavy eyelids couldn't fight the flood of tears that came when I remembered her final days. I could still hear the loud thumps of her head hitting the hardwood floor with every seizure. I practically flew as I rushed down the stairs to get to her as fast as my legs would carry me. I could still feel her sitting atop of my crisscross legs as I held her tight until her body stopped seizing. I remember being late to my first day of work because I couldn't bare to leave her, with her foam covered mouth and tired eyes, until another family member came home to keep close watch on her. I left her surrounded in pillows and towels to protect her sweet face should she have another seizure. When I came home from work that night, she greeted me just like she had done almost everyday since she was a puppy. She waited for me. And a few hours later, she had a seizure so bad we knew it was time to let her go. My eyes well up with tears as I type it. And last night... I sobbed myself to sleep. 

I thought, oh God, has this year completely broken me?  

I think the older I get, the more sensitive I get. For a while, I thought this was a weakness. Something you tried to fix, you know? However, I've found great encouragement in 2 Corinthians 12:9.

But he said to me. "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

The same sensitivity that lead me to tears at two in the morning also makes me a caring and compassionate friend. The descriptive details of my dog's final day is the same memory that recalls my friend's birthdays and favorite candy. The pillow/towel fort I built for my dog is the same thoughtfulness I put into gifts and letters. The love I had for my family pet is the same love I have for my family and friends.

Maybe broken wasn't the right word. Humbled. Humbled is how I really feel. 

I love that God can use my "weakness" for His glory. Just proof that He is always at work in our lives. And even though I may not love my zip code or my job or my current situation, I can say that I am starting to love the person God made me to be. 

And when the world weighs heavy on my heart and starts to make me feel like a failure, God is quick to remind me of His call to love. And that is something I can stand before Him and say that I have done.