The Rock on Which I Stand

Coffee didn’t help much this morning. Big changes stymied my insides. When they combined with recent rejection, I just felt (and feel) quite weird.

So, after fighting to believe Jesus is Bigger, I didn’t feel ready to face a gaggle of women—even if in the form of a Bible study. Deciding to bail, I sent a short text to the leader, Paula, and my friend, Amy. Two sweet replies later, my phone rang.

“You. Are. His. Beloved.” Amy practically shouted into the phone. “I just left my prayer closet where I was singing loud and praying. He loves you, Susan!! Jesus really loves you.”

Her overflow continued for almost 20 minutes and gave me what I needed to press into my day. So, I did.

I conquered a few previously ignored tasks and taught a few piano lessons. But hours after Amy's rallying call, the struggle continued. 

When I quieted my soul and gazed at the contrast of fresh green against sky blue right outside my window, I faced that a lot of what has stirred unrest ties back to my illness. I want to be somebody that my limits make it hard for me to be.

I can play the piano, but only so much before muscle fatigue sets in. I can clean, but only a little each day. I can write, but struggle to know how to market myself when my feet only carry me so far. 

I can do a lot of things well... to a point. But sometimes it feels like I'm jury-rigging a lot without truly excelling in one.

So yes, this is me on a low day, seeking solace from myself. 

What to do? First, I just discovered that store bought guacamole livens up Ian’s gluten free chicken nuggets quite well. Throw in rosemary potato wedges and dinner on my screened-in porch proved healing.

Second, I'll continue doing what I’ve been doing off and on all day. I wrote about it in my book. So, if you’ve read my book and wonder if I was telling the truth, trust me, this is one of those days I state, “I love you, Lord, and you love me,” over and over and over again.

Ironically, not long after I typed the above, I got an email, letting me know that a blog post I submitted this afternoon was accepted and posted on The Mighty.

It's a small step. A very small step. But after a day of swimming in emotional muck, the forward step pulls me from what's felt like a riptide to an easier flow.  

At least temporarily.

Regardless, no matter how I feel, Jesus is still bigger. I may not feel as strong today as I did when I wrote about it last week, but the truth remains as solid as a rock.

The Rock on which I stand.