A couple months ago, there was a Sunday that was a lot.
I jotted this note: I don’t know how or if I can write about this past Sunday.
I tried.
I lost an hour of sleep, which felt exhausting, but because of the preceding day, it also felt sweet. The couple days and that morning were filled with family and worship. I settled in to restfully, casually get some things done. I wanted to tough base with several people. I began to make final preparations for an online study, then I got heartbreaking news that shattered a piece of me. I knew I needed to press pause on how I was feeling, because in that moment, it was more important to pour into someone I love.
Through the day, God provided a couple surprise conversations with friends who know me well, inviting them to speak truth into a hard situation and vice versa as they also shared frustrations and disappointments. Then (before social distancing) someone I care deeply about texted and showed up on my doorstep, trusting me enough to share a tough time.
It was an exhausting, heart wrenching, beautiful day.
That is how some days are. Remnants of the day last for a while. Other things fade with time. It’s important to be faithful and intentional about what remains and what fades.
Sometimes we can’t foresee or fully reflect on what is happening, but we can trust God through it. We can let him give us glimpses of hope. We can trust him for healing. We can rely on him with our struggles, doubts, concerns, and thankfulness. We can choose him, even when we can’t quite capture it all with our words.