Resting In the Who-Knows-Where
By Jessica Brodie
I write this in the middle of a bit of chaos. It’s been a busy few weeks with work, I was out of town over the weekend, my household has been battling off and on sickness, and we’re getting ready to make a drive to Ohio to visit my husband’s 99-year-old grandma for Thanksgiving. I’m still getting over a really nasty sinus infection, my daughter has again shifted to homebound school for physical and mental health reasons, and overall it feels like a season of generally being in a state of flux.
Yet somehow, a strange sense of peace is holding it all together.
In a way, it’s like I’m in the open ocean with no solid ground beneath my feet. There’s no rescue rope in sight, but I sense the life raft is near and somehow everything is going to be OK.
That life raft is God, the One who holds me close and washes all my fears away.
Still, it’s an uneasy feeling when we are in places like this. I’m a natural planner almost to a fault, yet I’m having a hard time making plans because I have weeks where everything changes day-to-day. Yet in the center of this, as I write this post, my soul is taking a collective ahhhhhh of relief, because in all honesty, in spite of everything, I feel truly and deeply blessed. And I don’t mean this in the pat “I’m blessed” way you might think. Truly and sincerely, I acknowledge that although things are not perfect, the fact remains that it is well with my soul. In spite of the troubles going on in our home right now, somehow knowing I am loved by God and that everything is not as dire as it seems leaves me in a state of perfect peace.
I’m resting in the who-knows-where, that fathomless middle ground somewhere between the ocean’s surface and sandy bottom. Yet it’s surprisingly sweet and right and natural to be here.
I don’t know what tomorrow will look like or even what’s going to happen next week, yet it’s OK. I have food on the table and a family I love. My focus right now is on gratitude for what I do have instead of worry about what could happen or what I hope will improve. I am content in this moment, right now.
For me, gratitude has to come from a place of authenticity. It’s not enough to feel that generic Hallmark card type thankfulness in my heart (though I do love Hallmark cards). For me, I am able to get to a place of gratitude when I go deep and really think about how things could be, how things are for others.
Even if things are hard in my life, I have a toilet and clean water. I can go to the grocery store. When I’m sick, I can go to the doctor and get medicine. My loved ones might struggle with illness, chronic pain, migraines, and mental health, but it’s a journey we’re all walking together. Things could be a lot different, and I know this. I know how many families have been torn apart by mental illness, and I know how many families are still stuck in generational cycles of dysfunction, poverty, and substance abuse.
There are days I think it’s unfair and get frustrated. There are days I might complain. Those aren’t good days. Those are days I’d rather leave in the past. What works far better is resting in that strange tandem, somewhere in-between, not knowing what will be, but somehow trusting in my heart that even if I can’t see the solid ground, it’s there. I’m not going to float away into the abyss or shatter into a million shards of glass.
This week I’m also grateful for the blessing of not only being a writer, but actually having a writing ministry. Week after week, God puts something on my heart, and I am able to put pen to paper, or rather finger to keyboard, and express these truths. All these questions that reside in my heart and soul don’t have to swim aimlessly in my brain, but I can get them out into the world. By sharing, I’m hopefully helping other people have encouragement or know they are not alone, but I’m also helping me by getting it out. I’m breaking the chains of darkness and fear through vulnerability and transparency.
Holidays are not easy for everybody. I find myself desperately missing people in my life who have passed away, missing things that once were, ways that are no longer. Still, there are new ways to live and spend holidays and enjoy the people who are in my world now, to celebrate the true joy I have at being a daughter of God.
Whether you celebrate Thanksgiving, or not, whether this time of year is your favorite or you dread it because of the painful memories evoked, I invite you to stop with me for a moment and just reflect on who are you today. How is God using you? What can you be grateful for about this particular season in your life, no matter what else is going on or even how difficult it is?
My friends, I wish you heartfelt blessings, and I lift up a universal blanket of prayer to the Lord that I hope stretches across the head of every person who is reading this post at this moment: Lord, thank You for this precious soul who is reading this right now. Thank You for this connection in the Holy Spirit that we all share together. Thank You that we are all blessed to be part of Your body. Help us remember that we are all connected and that our concern should not only be ourselves or our individual families, but the entire family that comprises the body of Christ. Help us to remember the words of Jesus that, before we approach the altar, we should check our hearts to see if we have anything against a brother or sister, and if we do, to first go and mend and heal that problem beforehand. In Your holy name I pray, Amen.
I love you, my friends. I hope you feel the love of Christ in me right back in you, and I hope we all let that glimmer of gratitude and peace shimmer through every ounce of our beings this week. And if I can pray for you in any way, please reach out.
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THANKS TO MY SPONSORS: MATT BRODIE, KATHLEEN PATELLA, AND BILLY ROBINSON.
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