I’ve spent a lot of time crocheting lately. There’s something about this intricate and purposeful activity that always plunges me into a peaceful mindset. It allows me to think the deepest of thoughts. Life slows down, passing by with just one stitch at a time, and I am very present.
I should crochet more often.
There are big changes on the horizon. Our family is about to undergo a very exciting journey and for a while, I’ve had trouble deciding how I feel about it all. My mind is so tricky and difficult to sort through. My thoughts like to hide themselves and sometimes, I have no earthly idea as to why I’m feeling a certain way. I just feel. And I get mad at myself for feeling for no apparent reason.
I haven’t told you, my dear readers, about some of these changes coming our way. I will soon, but not until all of the important details are nailed down. For now, bear with me while I attempt to sort through some things.
I don’t like how I’ve behaved in the last several months. It’s not outward behavior I’m referring to – it’s this inward, closed-up, frustrated behavior that is only (and wrongly, I suppose) exhibited to those I love most dearly. However short this season in our lives has been and will be, I have often focused only on the now and the why and the my life is over because Right Now isn’t going the way I always thought it would. The embarrassing truth is that I’ve gone there and I’ve been careless and now, I look back at the last six months and I see that I didn’t choose to grow like I could have. Instead of looking at this (literal and figurative) winter as a time to rest and to replenish and to prepare for the coming spring, I’ve despised its darkness and refused to see the beauty it offers. It really is embarrassing.
I’ve given myself plenty of pep talks and sure, there have been moments, maybe even full days, where I have chosen appreciation over victimizing myself. But I’ve been here for six months. And a few days of appreciation? It’s just not enough.
I’ve often complained that I cannot see God. I cannot hear him, cannot feel him, cannot understand him. And I’m working through that. I think believers are always working through that – how can we conceive of a God that loves us so, so much and yet, he can seem so distant? It’s easy to feel like I’m expected to make it on my own, with only an idea of who he is, how he feels about me, and what I can do to honor him and his people.
The people who get it, though – they see him everywhere. God is ever-present, not just because we feel good in that moment but because look at the world around us! Look at the snow and the lakes and the pine trees and the smiles from the passersby and the love from my husband and the beauty of my young children! How can I say that God is distant? It is only when I am so utterly focused on me, and my troubles, and my world and its unpredictability, and my expectations, that I decide that God is distant.
How could I?
I’m sorry if I’m rambling. The truth is, I’ve needed to sort through these thoughts for a while. I’m thinking through the reality of creation. It’s such a heavy subject and at the end of the day, all I can do is just surrender. I can’t try to figure this out. I can’t fight and fight and fight for knowledge as if it will somehow bring me more understanding of this timeless, all-loving, all-knowing Father of mine. Knowledge is good and blessed, but it is not the key to relationship with my God. I know that. And I’m slowly stripping these preconceived notions away. I will not put God in a box. I will not.
I’m afraid these thoughts aren’t too deep or theological, but they’re me and they’re real and I felt the need for real today. I hope I don’t scare you away. 🙂
Here’s some beauty, little bits of love and blessing (and a new crocheted-by-me hat), from my day so far: