Watching - Part 2: Quiet

And in the quiet of my soul, I am reminded of all I am and all I can do through Him who gives me strength.

How do I start to speak of the quietness of the soul? Of that deep place where no one sees or hears or knows me like my Saviour does? That place where really, only He is ever allowed to go because it is so raw, so deep, so shredded, so...scary? That place that holds the ugly truth of all the lies and bitterness and failures I have held on to, believed in, succumbed to. Sometimes they are deep, from the past - from the pit - and that is scary.

The quiet place of the soul is somewhere I never want to go alone. I can only go that deep when walking hand in hand with Jesus. He and I have been there. He and I have walked the real and true Valley of the Shadow of Death. He and I have walked over the scars of yesteryear (over and over) that bubble too close to the surface every once in a while. He and I have walked over the cavernous pain of searing loss. He and I have walked the rickety swinging bridge of trusting and letting go and trusting and letting go.

And each and every time He has remained faithful.

So why am I struggling with discontentment? Why am I so unhappy with the height and breadth of the life he has placed before me? How can I dare say, "It is not enough!" when in reality the core of my being is shaking in my boots, scared to death because I am also believing the lie that I am not enough. It a paradox of truth and lies. No, maybe it's just a paradox of lies.

For me to say, "This life is not enough, this type of responsibility is not enough, I want more", is really and truthfully a lie. Actually, it's not that it is not enough, it is that I want it to be different somehow. I am unhappy - discontent - with what God has given me. If I am gut wrenching honest, I want what "she" has. And "she" could be anybody. The "she" at work , the "she" doing ministry, the "she" cooking great meals, the "she" welcoming everyone into her home, the "she" serving at the food bank, the "she" sitting and reading a book, the "she" going to the gym, the "she" writing a book, the "she" being an awesome mom, the "she" being a much better pastor's wife than me.

The bottom line of my discontentment? Sin.
I know it is sin that keeps me from being content and free.  Things like pride, envy, jealousy, comparison. Ugly, yucky sin that makes me second guess God's best for me.

It is in that quiet place of the soul where I can be ugly honest with God, and in that deep place he reminds me once again that I don't need to be "she", I need to be "me". In fact, he doesn't want me to be "she", he wants - and needs - me to be "me".

I am enough because he is more than enough. And that is the truth.

So as I remain in the quiet place of the soul for a bit, I am finding peace. I am able to see and hear the real truth. I allow God to soothe the deep places that need strength and healing and wholeness. I confess in a puddle of tears the sin that I let creep in between God and me, and for the lies of failure, fear, and discontentment that I believed about myself. And for the hurt that believing those lies has caused myself and others. I ask for, and accept, the gracious forgiveness of God. Not because I deserve it, but because I know I can't carry on harbouring this sort of sin and brokenness.

So I am forgiven! And I realize that I am at last watching all that is going on around me, not with contempt or distain or mistrust or jealousy, but with awestruck wonder. Because what I am watching is God at work, his plan unfolding in the most obscure way, yet so...right.

Here, in this quiet place, peace was reached and God revealed a deep truth through his Word.
I am so excited to share this next piece with you.