the refresh button

posted in: on being a captive set free | 0

That’s what I need lately. To push that little circular arrow and wait for life to refresh. I’m craving fresh starts and fresh perspective and fresh energy. I’m craving renewed hope and renewed ambition and renewed focus.

This little blog is supposed to be an outlet for me to process, but lately I stare at blank screens with fingers hovering unmoved over the keyboard. Some days it’s lack of thoughts. Most days lack of focus. Every day it’s 100% pure exhaustion, from a life of four littles talking and needing and laughing and crying.

Have I mentioned four littles? It’s been 3 months since we’ve re-embarked on our journey with foster care. It has been far less bumpy than our last encounter that left us worn and ragged, ready to call it quits for good. But it has still been bumpy. Adding an extra two year old ensures that, even without the uncertainty foster care brings. As my heart becomes more and more invested in loving this child, I become more and more filled with fear of what is to come.

I’ve pondered that woman in 1 Peter quite often as a result. The one who does good and doesn’t fear anything that is frightening (3:6). I long to be among the holy women who hoped in God (3:5), but my spirit is weak. My faith is wavering under the pressure of the ordinary. I long for meaning but I struggle to find it in the midst of the mundane. Anchor me in Your grace and goodness–my constant inhale, never without the exhale–help my unbelief!

Jesus is sweet, and a recent opportunity to prepare a workshop on being a woman of the Word renewed my mind and reminded my tired heart:

You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in your word. (Psalm 119:114)

So I push “refresh.” Not because I can, but because He who promised is faithful (1 Thes. 5:24).

My soul waits for the Lord, and in His Word I hope (Ps. 130:5).

I push “refresh” because I know, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning” (Lam. 3:22-23)

Inhale: soak up the truth, let it stew and do its work, penetrating down to my innermost being, rooting out sin, bringing healing and hope and fresh perspective. I want to hold my breath. Stay here awhile. The blank screen processing the refresh.

Oh Lord, make me new, I beg. I’m so tired. I don’t know if I can hold onto this truth long enough to make a difference.

But it is not me that holds on–thank God–it is Him that holds Me.

Exhale.

Help my unbelief.