Red Vine Spirituality

Taylor K. Arthur balances Bipolar 1 Disorder, marriage, and motherhood with a nitty-gritty faith inspiring a twisted, blissful life.

In the mess

I will be real and I will feel life and I will be Naaman who bends the knee, enters the muddy waters of the emotions.  True lament is the bold faith that trusts Perfect Love enough to feel and cry authentic. 

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

So.  It’s Monday at 5pm and I’m sitting in a radiology clinic waiting to get scanned.  Not that that’s not worrisome enough, but my hands are covered in Kilz paint. It’s in my hair and on my clothes (regular clothes, not painting clothes) because I freaked out and had to paint today before the contractors showed up.  Long story, and Jack did not agree with my need to Kilz.

I’ve tried not to mention this gnawing question growing in the back of my mind this last year: what was that “nodule” they caught on my birthday in the hospital last year that I’ve had to wait a whole year to have scanned again?  That question that took all my courage to address, straight up in the kitchen shaking as I dialed the numbers when all I wanted to do was run away.

When I told my friends, they wanted to lay hands on me.  I told them “no.”  Yes, me. I told them no.  Because I’m tired of being the focus of prayer.  I don’t want one more thing.  I just want to serve and help and lay hands on somebody else.  Anybody else.  Can I get an Amen?

My house is a mess, and I washed dishes in the bathtub this morning.  

I am tired, and tears trickle even when I don’t want them to.  I sent out these pics to my girls last night:   

     And they replied, “It’s going to be so amazing!”

And what I thought: “but it’s such a mess right now.”

And then the thought occurred to me that maybe that’s the whole point in life: to trust that this crazy, upended house will be amazing when it’s done.  And this crazy, messy life has a plan I can ‘t see, and it ‘s all working together for good.  Because while our cousin Mike can see the remodeled kitchen through the mess, God ‘s got the whole plan.  And I just have to trust.  

Trust.  Whew.  Harder than ever for this girl who does not trust a statistic. But Mike is dang good at what he does.  I trust him.  Why is it so hard to trust the God that made Mike, the house, this girl and her fragile heart? 

I’m not saying I ‘m good at trusting when I ‘m laying down to get a ct scan. I’ve felt empty and exhausted and angry. 

And freakin’ scared, frankly.  But He loves me scared. He loves me.  And I can trust that. I can trust I can have all of these emotions, and I am safe with Him.

Shaking, 

Taylor

Ps, the scan came out fine.  Praise The Lord.

1 Comment

  1. I’m glad everything came out ok in your CT scan, thank God!

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