Glue

Glue.
God gave me that word a few weeks ago. 
When I’m not sure how I feel,
I sometimes ask the Lord for words or pictures
that help my emotions make sense to me in light of Him. 
The term “glue” echoed deep into my soul and
began bringing pieces of my puzzle into something resembling an image
rather than a jumbled mess. 
In this season as young wife and mother, I feel like glue. 
Glue that is smeared on the back of a piece of scrap paper and
holding everything together. 
I dance in the celebration of wifedom and motherhood. 
These are my greatest earthly gifts. 
But you want to know the truth?
More often than not, I’d rather be the artist than the glue.
I want to dream and create and be filled with passion. 
I want to be a part of beautiful things upon which people can gaze. 
I want to be spontaneous and creative and free to
explore something further if it catches my eye. 
Instead, I feel as though I never get to choose
where I’m smeared or what I hold together or
how many times my little knob at the bottom gets turned
to use more and more of me up.  
I sat there at the feet of God telling him,
“Yes! Glue is it exactly!”  
And He countered me. 
I tuned my ears to Him and I felt the word
“valued”
resting on my heart. 
It’s now written on a name tag and pressed into the pages of my journal,
right alongside the only other words I could use to
describe my feelings just minutes before:
stuck, wandering, lonely, set aside, fixer, unnoticed, used…glue.  
Something was rising up in me.
Valued. Called. Anointed. Promised. Useful. God’s Workmanship….His art!

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This season I’m in is one of considerable joy. 
There is much in which I rejoice and delight. 
Being a mom to my Lettie Anne thrills my soul.  
Each day is a voyage into new bliss as I witness her personality burst forth. 
The friendship and romance I possess with my husband
is a privilege I could have never dreamed up. 
Both relationships are privileges I would never willfully give up. 
It is not Biblical to assume, however,
that joy cannot reside alongside struggle.  
In fact, Scripture suggests quite the opposite. 
I know in my soul of the fruit
God promises to produce in me and through me if I remain in Him. 
I trust Him for this. 
Don’t misinterpret my emotions as
regrets or ungratefulness or
failings on the part of my loved ones to meet my needs. 
I am simply compelled to tell the truth from deep down because
I can’t help but sense that others feel it too.  
I dare not sacrifice authenticity for the sake of
appearing at peace by my own accord. 
I fear pretending ease when reality is hard. 

I shudder to think another mom may be crossing my path
with a similar ache in her heart to be seen and
my eyes are too fixed on seeing myself that I miss seeing her! 

We all could use a little honesty, and
my truth right now is that I feel unseen in this space of young motherhood.
Joyless? No way! 
A little lost and overwhelmed and stuck?  Yes and yes! 

Truths do not have to equate to complaints when spoken. 
But truth does deserve to be spoken. 

Not working to stay at home with children is hard.  
Moves to new cities are hard. 
Moves to new countries are even harder. 
Submitting to your husband is hard. 
Things which used to come easily to me I now often find challenging. 
Making friends, plugging in, leading,
even finding the right place to serve seems illogically difficult.
I think the transition to marriage and motherhood can often
lend itself to an identity crisis of sorts. 

I’m not sure where me went. 

We just seem to be stuck right in the middle of
all these things and people and
we can find everyone and everything
          (the remote, your daughter’s left shoe, the cream cheese…am I right?)
but ourselves.  
There is a lot I don’t know right now. 
Especially about myself. 
But! I do know that if God never put me in this “invisible” season,
then I may have never had eyes to see you when you are in it. 
So I want you to know that I see you, sister. 
And if I don’t see you yet,
then know that I’m looking for you. 

You are God’s workmanship, a masterpiece if you will. 
Though you may feel like a clumpy piece of glue and
all you want is to have a little control over what you become,
take delight in the fact that
you don’t get to be the Artist because you get to be
the art. 

God saw all that He had made and it was very good. 
Creation is not a finished work.
Creation is past and present.
That means you.  And me. And the mom across the road. 
Pardon the cliché, but we are works in progress.
The Artist has His hands invested in us and
He is making something to be valuable!
There’s my word…valued. 
Remember, the creative process often requires glue. 
So I’m choosing today to celebrate my stickiness and
I’m going to do my job not only with all my heart,
but with all my joy. 
Because I trust the Artist.  
And I know after the glue dries,
when our kids have their footing and
hold themselves together a little better than they do now,
maybe then I can be the paintbrush! 

As I scrap my way through this season of glue,
I’m speaking the promises of John 15 over my life and yours. 
Do not dry up. 
Do not pick up a pen and start drawing furiously
on a canvas that is not yet ready,
even if you know you have a picture to draw! 
God sees. 
May we be patient. 
May we let Him do His work. 
May we remain in Him. 
He sees the giftings you possess when you hold that pen,
but He wants to ensure the canvas is prepared suitably to receive them. 
May we not turn and separate ourselves and attempt to bloom
“right this very instant!”  
Haven’t we all told God at one time or another,
“I better blossom right here right now or else!”? 

Perhaps He is watering us. 
Perhaps the vine is growing and
the branches are extending and
little shoots are beginning to sprout,
but the fruit is simply not ready. 
Hear this….Not dead!
Just out of season. 
It’s coming. 
Works in progress. 
Remain in Him.

God is good. All the time. 
Now go be the best glue you know how to be!