Beat Up.

Last night, I had a dream that I went swimming in the ocean. My dad was there, my husband was there, too. I’m not sure who all else was there, but I think there were a couple of others out swimming with us. We started in the water and quickly it got deeper and the waves started to rise higher and higher. The sky was turning black, and we soon realized that we were being taken quickly out away from the shore. No one else seemed very worried about it, but I soon felt the looming darkness swelling all around. There was a tingle up my spine as I was swimming, still under some control, but wavering on when it would soon end. I think having both my husband there and dad made me feel like they would never let anything happen to me. We’d be ok.

Much to my own disappointment, I never got to the end of the dream. Morning always comes too soon. And is it any wonder my bladder was screaming in pain when I awoke? It laid a sort of foundation for my day, though. I feel like I’ve been carried past the point of my own control and I’m swimming wondering when it’ll be too much for me to take. I feel beat up. By my own nature, I’m not much of a crier. I will when brought right on to it, but in general, I buck it up. Yesterday I sat and put my head in my hands and had me a good cry. It’s more likely to happen when I can get myself alone and the kids aren’t around to wonder why mom is a wreck. I felt so misunderstood. I felt so hurt. Not so much angry, but I was really disappointed. I clung to my bible all day, asking God for a word. He gave me some friends instead.

A few conversations yesterday began to stitch my heart back together, after what felt like a battle and a wounding. True friends. I smirk about it because I think I bring it on myself at times. I don’t regret taking a stand on how I truly feel, though. A lot of true colors came flying at me the other day, and I was not ready. Can anyone be ready for the extreme left field? I am left wishing I could explain better, but I realize that my justification is not needed. I’ve already done what I could, I apologized that my thoughts were impeding theirs and it was never my intent to be hurtful.

It’s another day later and I am feeling slightly crushed still. God’s giving me a word today. I must be more receptive to take it in. Lord, keep teaching me. Lord, show me your ways, they are always higher than my own. Joseph was a fantastic role model. The sift of pages lead me into Genesis and a story about a boy with dreams, brothers that could not love like brothers ought to, and God’s will in a situation that seemed impossible.

Joseph Reassures His Brothers- Genesis 50

15 When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “What if Joseph holds a grudge against us and pays us back for all the wrongs we did to him?” 16 So they sent word to Joseph, saying, “Your father left these instructions before he died: 17‘This is what you are to say to Joseph: I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they committed in treating you so badly.’ Now please forgive the sins of the servants of the God of your father.” When their message came to him, Joseph wept.

18 His brothers then came and threw themselves down before him. “We are your slaves,” they said.

19 But Joseph said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? 20 You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. 21 So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children.” And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them.

Joseph had it absolutely right. Forgive like he’s been forgiven. Bless like he’s been blessed. While his brothers didn’t love like they should, it didn’t keep him from loving them. He didn’t let their sin make him falter. He didn’t make them gravel or say they were sorry. (part of me loves that the brothers threw themselves down, though) He gave them the truth in love and shared with them God’s provision.

While feeling a bit tender today, I’m bit by another problem. It shakes me to the core, but I refuse to give it power over me. There’s never a coincidence when it all hits the fan at once. The attack is on. Satan wants me to throw a fit, he wants me to tell off everyone that’s been making me crazy, and he wants me to wallow in self pity. I refuse to do it. But I do feel beat up.

The dream about the ocean is quite fitting. While I may swim out in dark waters with waves cresting and crashing all around me, I might tempt myself to feel like nothing can go wrong as long as I’m swimming with my dad and my husband. I’m wrong, though. My husband is flesh and so is my dad. The only one who can calm the waves and keep me from being a sinking stone is God. The only one to restore my wounded soul is a merciful Jesus, who wants nothing more than to hold my face and tell me how loved I really am.

Let all the trials in my life work for good, Lord. I trust in this, and I am doing my best to remain faithful to do what you’d have me do and not what this world would have me do. While I want to curl up in my bed, or drown out my feelings with comfort food, I know I’m called to a stand again and keep going. Keep loving even when it’s dangerous water.


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