just add water

My free fall summer of job change and adoption has pushed the concept of water through my heart like the draining of a million gallon tank.

Just. Add. Water.

The tendency to crave insta-everything —instant happiness, instant depth, instant love… the notion that new relationships bring immediate satisfaction.

Wrong.  

Love takes time.  Love takes work.  Love takes intentionality.  Lasting love is slow to build.

Just. Add. Water.

God spent years stretching my heart in preparation for adoption.  Long before we met our new daughter he was equipping my family to include her.

However, change, even good change,  adds emotion and taxes energy. Consequently, each of us is functioning at capacity.  This means that emotion – joy, frustration, fear, sadness is muddled, messy, and easily brought forth.  I’ve hidden in my closet and shed tears of fear-filled weariness.  We’ve huddled and cried tears of happy-filled weariness.

It also means that I can’t expect myself to function at a typical energy capacity.  I’ve had to step away from commitments.  Responses are delayed.  I sometimes feel like a flake.  Friends and extended family go overlooked.   Thankfully they love me through it.

Grace.  Constant grace.  I’m normal.  And that’s okay.  At least that’s the healing water they keep offering me.

Just. Add. Water.

I’m vulnerable in this state of openness.  The ‘what if’s’ haunt me.  They wash over my heart in tsunami-size waves of fear.

We moved in May (have I mentioned that?).  Every wall is bare.  Except for one thing, hanging in the staircase I climb a hundred times each day.  I need it as a reminder of the verse God gave me when our hearts were broken in care for a little one.  Here’s my paraphrase of its message:

The stakes are high when I move deeper into battle.  I’m vulnerable and exposed.  Pain is imminent, death is possible. BUT, I know (and will continue to preach this truth to myself) that YOU are the shield around me.  When I cling to the edge of sanity I cling to you.  My overflow of messiness, failures, and victories, I give it all to you.  Because you can handle it.  Because you love me in it.  You will never leave me.  You will never ask me to pull it together or clean myself up.  You are enough.  In you, I am enough.

Just. Add. Water.

Christ declared himself the Living Water.

Look, I have a strong marriage, close family, solid friendships, and a supportive community.  I know who I am and what I can contribute to this planet.  I’ve spent years practicing therapy, I’ve received therapy, and I have an expansive mental health toolkit.  I’m good at self-care and self-talk.

At the end of the day, the only water that has ever fully quenched my deepest soul-level needs is Christ.  Plain and simple.

The challenges won’t disappear.  After all, the bravest living invites pain and fear.

I am convinced that only in Him can a million gallons of water flow through me and not crush me.

Laura