Light.

I knew it then. Hesitantly hitting publish on that very first post, I knew the sharing was an act of obedience.

So, here I am. Taking a very small step in the direction my Jesus has asked me to go. This is not earth shattering by any means, I get that. But it is me (once again) laying my fears, my worries, and my anxieties at the feet of my Savior. I am writing the words on my heart for you all to read if you so choose. That’s just plain scary in my book. “

When I first started writing here on this blog, I was on the cusp of a new story being penned by God. I felt it like a fire burning within me. Yet, the fear of writing that story for the world to read was intimidating. I first wanted a glimpse of the rough draft, I sought to understand the plot, I needed to be assured the story would end with a tidy bow tieing the chapters together. Writing through the unknowns and the darkness often left me feeling exposed.

Fear reared it’s ugly head.

Fear of being vulnerable, fear of mediocrity, fear of not being enough.

Here I sit, at the start of a new year, on the other side of that first story: the story of our girls joining our family. The story of love pouring forth. The story of miracles unfolding. The story of a community of prayer warriors linking arms and charging into spiritual battles. 

On the other side of the story, I feel ill-equipped. I have left my pen (laptop) sit for a time. Dormant. I am afraid the words won’t come. I’m afraid the ordinary isn’t enough.

In His goodness and mercy, He led me to the words I needed this morning. Written by a friend who fiercely understands the pouring out, the exposure of vulnerability. I had written a few words for Amber’s blog to be shared today as a part of her guest post series. Yet, Divine timing intervened. Amber asked if my post could be moved to later this week as her words were scheduled to be on another site this morning.

The timing could not have been better. Reading Amber’s words this morning, soaking up the truths, felt like a salve to my own weary soul:

If love is the only goal, then I wonder what can hold us back?

Here at the beginning of the year, I realize just how held back I’ve been, so held back that I feel near paralyzed. As I look ahead and decide the kind of year I want 2016 to be, I first have to figure out what’s keeping me from the LOVE to which I’m called. If I love you, I will pour out and hope for nothing more than to show the love that Christ has to shown me. When I show it to you, I will see it all the more for myself.” – Amber Haines

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I spent some time alone with my Abba Father on the first day of the new year, locked in a bathroom soaking in a tub {because I’m a momma of littles – we find quiet where we find it}, asking Him to give me something to cling to in this season. This season of caring for littles, of changes unfolding in our ministry, of desperately wanting to be present and still and patient and kind – and faltering so very often. And, He whispered a gentle balm for my soul:

My burden is light. {Matthew 11:30}

All of the striving, the failing to measure up, the fears, the aching, the building, the chasing… it isn’t from Him. He doesn’t need me to run after Him. He is already running after me. I simply need to slow down, open my eyes, and see Him there. Waiting. Ready. Arms outstretched. Willing to lead me beside peaceful streams and give me rest in green pastures.

The needs press on. The hurting continues. The pain swirls around us. This world is not our home. It is broken and tattered. Even still, I can open my hands and simply ask where He needs me right in this moment. It’s not up to me to solve the problems. It’s not up to me to stand up for every injustice and heal all of the hurting. Faith without works is dead. Yes. Can’t it also be said that faith without trust is dead?

Today, as I approach a new year, a fresh slate, I will trust in Him. I will trust Him enough to hand over my heavy burdens in exchange for the buoyancy of His arms.