I have lots of internal conversations that take place beneath the folding of laundry or the making of dinner or the running of errands. And I really would like to write out some of those internal conversations into blog format more often. But lately, it just isn’t happening very often. Maybe I need to rethink my definition of blogging. Maybe I should call it “blurbing” instead of blogging so that it wouldn’t feel as daunting.
Blurbing — {v.} short blurbs of thought written out on a blog; less intimidating than blogging
That’s what I’ll start calling it.
Blurb no. 1.
I listened to a podcast series the other day while flying to the Spanish Wells (more about that trip in later “blurbs”). It was three interviews by Dr. Dan Allender of Dr. Keith Anderson regarding Anderson’s newest book A Spirituality of Listening. The third interview sat with me a while.
Anderson was talking about lament and how (my paraphrase –>) the American church in particular (and our culture at large) has neglected the power and reality of lament in this broken world. We’ve become a culture obsessed with the victories of life to the neglect of a time for lament in the midst of the hard stuff.
Yet some forty percent of the Psalms are laments. They’re words spoken from the depth of soul in the middle of despair, mourning painful realities. Not hidden despair. Not fake “I’m fines” from plastered smiles. But real words from real hearts dealing with real issues — real anger, real pain, real regret, real fear.
But I call to God,
and the Lord will save me.
Evening and morning and at noon
I utter my complaint and moan,
and he hears my voice.
Psalm 55:16-17
As I sat on that plane, the idea of lament affected me. Because sometimes I want the ending — the victorious result — to the point that I’m not honest with myself (or others) about the deep struggles within. I so want to reach the “win” that I feel restless and uneasy with the undone.
Maybe as Christians we subconsciously think there’s something wrong with us or wrong with our faith if we’re not “fine.” Like we should be “ok, already.” But in all reality, we won’t be completely “fine” until Jesus comes again. In the meantime, there’s wrestling. There’s struggle. And there’s a place for holy lamenting.
God has graciously been drawing quiet folds of my own heart out of hiding. And I’m seeing that in being honest about the undone places, I allow Him — the ultimate Healer — in to mend.
So consider this an invitation to be “not fine.” Maybe not all over Facebook or with everyone we see in the grocery store. But “not fine” before our good God and even with a trusted friend. He waits to meet us and touch us right there.
Fill me, Lord…
Have you ever walked with God through a season of lamenting? How did He meet you and heal you in that?
Hey Lara: I am there and even though I do wear the FAKE “I’m Fine” in front of many, God has opened me to go to my truly trusted long time prayer buddies and be totally raw. They let me talk, they listen, they pray and sometimes God gives them the words to love me through the process. I am ok with not being fine in this season because this is the real world. and I have learned that I cannot always show this face of perfection because that is NOT REAL. It is good for me to not be ok at times as long as I do not park there too long and allow God to refine my thought process, my spirit and my heart. But I will openly admit… I do not necessarily like this place. I sometimes prefer the fake so I do not have to deal with the messy. But learning that I am such a work in process and this is just another layer of the onion being peeled back towards renewal. God is faithful.
Yes, “as long as I don’t park there too long.” I’m with you on that. I want to be real with God and with my trusted friends, while also allowing Him to refine me and not getting stuck. Also, I’ve tried to stop saying “I’m fine” when asked how I am. Instead I (sometimes remember to) say, “Pressin’ into Jesus.”