Sunday, September 28, 2014

i guess it was dark.

it's late and i should be sleeping. but i took a three hour nap this afternoon because guess when it comes down to it, i'll take whatever uninterrupted sleep i can get.

these last weeks have been incredibly hard. i think i was barreling through life, quickly and survivingly(it's a word, okay?) for the past 6 months and then. it all settled. the newborn haze lifted. i realized i was in a different house in a different part of town and now we're 6 instead of 5. all the dynamics had changed. everything that was my normal was not that anymore.

last week i drove the exact route from lila's old preschool to our old street. except this time, i didn't turn left, i kept going. kept on going to where i live now. the entire drive haunted me. it is a strange predicament to pass by a life that still feels like yours.

i cried again. because why not. crying is the trend these days. that was our preschool and that was my trail i walked on everyday and that was my grey colonial with the red door. and that was my perfectly mapped out kitchen, dammit. 

i was struggling with wanting to go backwards. it was better back there where i knew how to live.

the Israelites wanted to go back to egypt too. where it felt like home and everything was in it's place-- instead they were wandering in the desert of the unknown and the needing God for every little, tiny, thing.

i know it's not a new emotion. i guess i'm hoping there's a promised land up here somewhere too.

the night before i had sent an email to the parents in lila's class. a bridge.
i explained some things about lila. i threw in a few jokes. i was a bit too real probably for a introduction. i used capital letters and didn't make up words(i.e. THIS IS ME TRYING).  i told them it was scary and that i didn't know how to do this.

and i paused before i hit send.
this is dumb. no, this is great. no, this stupid. that joke is sort of weird. just do it, who cares.
(this is generally my process in making decisions. it's pretty great!/is sometimes called premature and irrational.)

and i get home from that strange drive and read email after email after email of parent's encouragement.
the me too's and the let's have a get together.
the thank you for saying that and the it's going to be ok's
over and over.

God's grace flooding in.
oh, He heard me?
i thought He had forgotten about us in the desert.
only He had not and he was making a way. this whole time He was working, but i guess it was dark and i didn't see Him up ahead.
Lord, help my unbelief.


can i just say thank you all for your sweet comments and words of encouragement on my last post? to feel completely alone but find community among strangers, even online, held me up for some very hard days. please know that your words were like salve on wounds. thank you for walking with my family.


  1. Whoa. These lines...
    "the Israelites wanted to go back to egypt too. where it felt like home and everything was in it's place-- instead they were wandering in the desert of the unknown and the needing God for every little, tiny, thing.

    i know it's not a new emotion. i guess i'm hoping there's a promised land up here somewhere too."

    My husband and I are missionaries in Eastern Europe, have been for a few years. Talk about wandering though the desert. It's not been the best of months for us here and I've felt myself longing for ease, for comfort, for my old home, for what used to be. I didn't quite know how to put a name to it but I'm so thankful for your words that name my "wandering" and for pointing me to Jesus, who does have a promised land for me.

    1. yes. we're all going through the same stuff. it just looks a little different for each of us. xoxo

  2. I'm in this season of wanting to go back to what was. To what is familiar and safe and comfortable. A season of panic attacks and anxiety so bad that it takes family loving on me and hand-holding to get me out of the house. It's frustrating. And embarrassing as hell. I spent my entire year of being 19 flying to Austrailia, adventuring and learning and living and loving - without fear, without worry. Of course I want to go back.

    But Christ keeps calling me forward. To live out something entirely different than what I could have ever imagined : resting in Him. It's an odd place to be. What I love about your sharing today is the way you made yourself vulnerable and the flood of incredible responses you've received. I'm still struggling with this idea that I need to keep presenting myself as "not broken" or "perfect." But your vulnerability is inspiring. Encouraging me to take the steps I need to take in my own life.

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  4. This reminds me of a song that Sara Groves wrote -

    "I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacks. The future feels so hard and I want to go back"

    I am so often encouraged and challenged by you. Thank you for your vulnerability and ability to speak to me, even in the hardness of seasons. Thank you.

    1. Kristen, I was just about to tell Jami about that same song. Jami, you must listen to it :) Satan sneaks in our seasons of change and makes us fear the gifts of our days. He makes us blind to them. I pray that he stays far from the walls of your new home and your new state of mind. The Lord has a plan.

  5. Geez Girl. I love you. I so needed this tonight in this dang desert. That's all. Oh and yay for uninterrupted sleep ;)

  6. i am probably going to regret saying this, but the times that it feels dark are almost my favorites. i feel like i can see him most in the dark. praying he gives you just the right eyes to see him right now. i'm nearly giddy thinking about how he is working all this together for good. he's written such a beautiful story for you thus far and he has pages and pages of beauty left to pen. love you. lets get together over christmas.

    1. please lets do. maroon basement is ready for you to live in it. it has an incredible 80's bar.

      and yes, the darkest times are when God has been most near. you are right.

  7. every day I have has some dark.
    four kids in my house & I can't see straight, hardly ever.
    except at night when the couch cushions are on the floor & not the couch, & I wish I had a few minutes back to say something nice instead of what I did say.
    & sometimes I look up, & there's a sparkle, or a ray, & I SEE. what. He's. doing.

    thanks for your dark. it's shining.
    (& maybe I don't have to be so afraid of the dark?)

    1. yes to all of this.

      also. tell me when you write your best selling book. :)

  8. Just checked your IG and it's still the PRUETT pic (stalker. No pressure.) But I guess I needed a fix (STALKER) so I checked here and glad I did. I had missed this one.

    I have so felt all the same feelings. We are twins. Ish.

    I love your bravery and that Lila is your bridge to the Promised Land.

  9. My toddler is "napping" (bouncing in bed, talking to himself) so I awarded myself some down time to catch up on reading your blog. And I found this.
    And all the feelings you just described about moving are all the things I've been feeling about moving for the past two weeks, and it is so good to know I'm not crazy. But more than that, it is so good to be reminded that God is faithful, present, and He has a plan. Because as much as I'd like to run back to comfortable, He pushes is forward- to new, uncomfortable, and sometimes just really messy- for His glory.
    So thank you for that.


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