In a few months, I'll be fine I'll see things I never saw when I was blinded by the night In a few months, I'll be good I'll forget the pain I felt, and feel the joy I never could In a few months, I'll be grand I'll remember all the peace that came when Jesus took my hand In a few months, I'll be glad I'll let go of all the hopes and dreams and people that I had But right now, I'll sit right here Inside the ache and agony of every dripping tear But right now, I'll be alone And try to hold the only hope that I have ever known But right now, I'll feel it all And trust the sweetest voice of Him who's name I'll always call But right now, I'll take a breath Even though it hurts to breathe when hurt is all that's ever felt In a few months, I'll be fine But right now, I'll sit right here.
They say “it’s okay to not be okay”. It’s well-meaning, and somehow meant to remind us to sit in our pain. But sometimes, I want to smack the mouth that speaks it, because I want to be okay. We all want to be okay.
This week hurt me more than most since the beginning of 2020, and I’ve had to sit in my pain and process all of it. I’ve never said more explicatives to God in my life (Christian low-point). I was told that God could take it, and boy, do I believe it. I told him many things, but the theme of them was this: I’m tired of grieving. I’m tired of losing things.
That’s as honest as it gets with me these days, friends.
I’ve never talked to or ugly-cried with more people than I did this week. I’ve needed more listening ears and patient hearts than I can bear to admit. The Lord mercifully gave me an over-abundance of them. But even the ears and hearts grow weary, and what are we to do then but sit with God. We will be alone soon enough, and we must hear from the King Himself. We must sit at His feet and pour out our honest fragrance onto Him. We must depend on Him for our next step, breath, and heartbeat.
I’m learning something remarkable while I’m sitting and His feet: that we must grow and mature into dependency. Isn’t that a funny thing to think? Since we were born, our parents brought us up to believe that they must give us all they can in order to make us strong, independent humans. In the physical realm, that seems very natural; but in the Kingdom, that’s literally in direct opposition to how everything works. God has given us His beautiful self, because He alone is enough for us. That is the Kingdom reality, and we must fight the urge to resist it and fall back into our ridiculous independence that will leave us broken, alone, and scared to death.
I think grief has a way of reminding us how fruitless our desire for independence really is. We need too much and will keeping needing. We grasp for many things in grief, but nothing else will be strong enough to hold the weight of our great need — except Jesus. He carried our need to the Cross, and continues to carry it as we cast our heartache upon Him.
So in a few months, I’ll be fine… but not because what didn’t kill me made me stronger… but because I’m leaning on the strongest One I know, and learning that I can’t make it without Him.