Thrilled to be writing among the beautiful Five Minute Friday community. This is where we write for just five minutes, on a word prompt. We don’t worry about perfection or making it just right, but rather allow the words to flow freely without over thinking. If you’ve never written for the Five Minute Friday, come join us. You will be glad you did!
Sometimes I wonder what difference I am making in the lives of others as I live out my own. Life has been full of the mundane lately — work, homeschooling, house cleaning, cooking, — a life lived on repeat, and I’m not sure I’m making any difference at all.
The truth is, I’m empty. I’m devoid of energy. I lack enthusiasm for living. I have to remember to smile each day and I have to reach for joy.
Why am I telling you this? Because I do not want to portray a life that is all together. My life isn’t together and I feel as if I’m about to completely unravel most days. I made a promise a long time ago that if I was going to write about my life, I was going to write the hard, honest truth, because I am of the belief that there are other people like me in this big, messy, beautiful world.
As we approach Good Friday and Easter Sunday, I am going once again to the foot of the cross. I am broken, bruised, unfulfilled and confused at times about life. I am burdened with weights so heavy that I fear I will break. But I know the answers will come only when I surrender myself to the one who bore it all.
This is who I am:
I’m a woman who carries the weight of her circumstances on her shoulders.
I need others to tell me it will all be okay, because I forget who is really in control.
I’ve camped out in the Psalms over the last few months and can’t seem to move on.
I yell at my kids and they tell me I’m negative and how I’m pushing everyone away.
My husband is struggling physically and emotionally and we barely talk.
I don’t know how to give when I’m so in need.
I like to keep busy so I don’t have to think about all I have to deal with.
My strength is zapped and some days all I want to do is sleep.
I can’t do laundry because I just don’t care.
I can’t clean house because it’s too overwhelming.
I push all my hurt and pain down deep hoping it will just disappear.
I can’t help but think about the weight He must have endured when He carried my fears and failures, guilt and shame, and hurt and pain up that hill. As I reflect on the cross and how He gave it all — for me — I can’t help but cry, “Lord, I’m not worthy!”.
But as I imagine Him there, inhaling breath for the very last time, I can almost hear Him saying,
“Barbie, I love you. You are worthy of my love.” And I am reminded once again how love covers a multitude of sin.
As I go once again to the foot of the cross, I will ask Him to take my sin and shame. I will ask Him to heal my hurt and pain and to help me to live a life worthy of being seen by others. As I reflect on the empty tomb, it gives me strength to face my own emptiness.
Only He can fill my voids.
Only He can satisfy my longings.
Only He can fill me to overflowing.
There is a cross. But there is an empty grave. Thank you Jesus that You died and rose again.