Hey friends!

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted anything on here, and the truth is that I’ve been having a total crisis over my writing. There’s a big part of me that feels like I shouldn’t write about things I’m still in the midst of. Which is basically EVERYTHING. I’ve been reading tips from other well-established writers, and most of them agree it’s a crappy idea to write about things that I haven’t conquered or seen all the way through to the other side. And that makes sense to me. Because sometimes when you’re still swimming in an issue, you can’t see the whole picture. Emotions are flaring. And you still have things to learn.

And that’s where I’m at right now. I’m in the midst of a very specific and painful storm. The worst part about this storm, is that it didn’t just happen to me. I wasn’t minding my own business when all of a sudden the clouds rolled in and started screwing with my life. There’s no fundraisers or meals or Hallmark cards for this kind of storm.

Here’s why…

I was the one who called the storm. I happened to myself.

These are the storms that are extra damaging and destructive because the clouds are heavy with guilt and shame. I ordered the wind, and the rain, and the lightening. And it doesn’t matter if it was unintentional, because it’s here. And now it’s hailing.

This is that time in life when you blow your own mind with how tragically human you are. When you utterly shock yourself with the level of your stupidity. Or ignorance. Or greed. Or pride. Or a thousand other unmentionables.

This is the time when you wake up in the morning and think, “Nope. No. Effing. Way. I don’t even have the strength to put chapstick on today, let alone get a shower and be an actual person.”

And this is the time when I personally say, “What gives me the right to blog about ANYTHING, when my first goal of the day is just to stand up and get to my Blistex?!”

But yesterday, I was sitting in my closet praying (because that’s the only place where my kids can’t find me), and God led me to a few thoughts that I wanted to share….even in the “midst of” my mess.

Here they are, for what they’re worth…

If you are a storm-caller, like me….if you keep happening to yourself in ways that work against everything you’re trying accomplish….you need to get ready, because God must have massively huge plans for you. I know this because He passionately loves the foolish, the weak, and the unqualified, and has a thick history of using them in wildly powerful ways. He’s all about the surprise ending and raising up least-likely candidates.

It’s true. Check the bible.

So when you’ve called your storm, I think it’s vastly important to keep getting out of bed. Go find your chapstick, and turn the shower on. There is no way that your power to call a storm can outweigh His power to ensure you overcome it. There is no way that He didn’t see this storm coming and put His seal of approval on it so that you could be changed. Deepened. Readied. Raised up.

God wants warriors, and the best ones are made in storms just like these.

Wait for it. Sit down in your closet, lean in close to the difficulty, and ugly cry if you need to. But then? Get quiet. Because if you listen carefully, and keep on listening, you’ll start to hear the rumblings of a God who is orchestrating a divine comeback on your behalf. Get still, and you’ll begin to feel a strength building in you that you didn’t have before. Choose hard, do the work, and finally, when the time is right, you’ll emerge from the storm and you’ll be different. You’ll show back up again in a way that will make people whisper about you.

Later on, someone will get brave and cocky enough to politely tell you they never imagined you’d make it this far. They’ll ask you what it took for you to get here. And that’s when you’ll smile and say, “It’s not about what it took for me to get here. It’s about who it took for me to get here.”

….and you’ll be right, for a change!

Until that time comes….here’s to all the storm-callers. I love you. This isn’t over.

And here’s to the God who ministers in the “midst of”. I love you. Thank you for telling me this isn’t over.