In an old house I used to live in, there were weeds that nestled right up to the walls. They wrapped around the house, seemingly seeking to hold it, when really they sought to strangle it. I have always thought of my failure this way, the darkness in me. Snuggled right up next to who I am, but unable to infect it.
[We had Women’s Thing last week (was that just last week??) Folks asked for a recording, which obvi, I failed to create. But I figured I’d do a quick series of blog posts to try to recap what we covered and why we even did this thing. Part 1 is here!]
In Part 1 we talked about how God has asked us to stop molding ourselves to what culture says about us, and instead, believe what God says.
What do the cultures you’re a part of tell you about women?
Is it new? This restless longing? I’m like a horse in the starting gate, waiting for someone to tell me it’s time to run.
I’ve been working on a thing. (I’ve worked on so many things, building out places and spaces and resources is as much a part of me as the fingers that type out my thoughts as fast as I can think them.) But now, I’m been working on a thing that I will invite you into. I’m calling it The In Process Collective.
What is there to say on this day?
That the Lord is risen? He is risen indeed.
I feel it pressing in on me today, the weight of it pushing on every square inch of the skin of my soul: an awareness of the kindness of the Lord to me.
And I could fill your Instagram feed with pictures of His kindness: of the faces of faithfulness and the bountiful gifts, but it is not of these things that I speak. I speak of the pain, of the mistakes, of the failure, of the darkness. How kind He has been to me through these things.
[I wrote all this on Thursday BTW. So. ya know. go with it.]
I love this day. We have much to remember on it – He and I.
This day a few decades back (give or take a few years) You were wrapping bones and cells and ligaments around this soul that is me. You were expanding lungs to inhale air.
This day a couple a thousand years ago (or at least what we remember on this day) You were staring down Your worst fears.