I’m going through a divorce. I haven’t posted this in any social media form and I feel incredibly vulnerable in typing these words tonight. So I ask that you be gracious and kind.
I’m going through a divorce and it is hard. Painfully hard.
Death would be easier.
One of the most painful parts is the grief as a parent that you feel for your child. It is often and it is deep. It’s so overwhelming that I can only handle one little piece of a mountain of grief at a time. I grieve a little piece and then I tuck the rest deep, deep in my heart until the next time I have space and grace-enough to go there and let myself face it’s monstrous head.
The other day I had to nearly pull over in a near full on panic attack, my breath nearly gone from my body.
But what about church? What if she has two churches? It’s all so broken. It’s all just shattered. Her life. It’s all wrong. God, it’s all wrong. (this was just one of a million ways in which I think about Bella’s broken world, but it was the thought of two churches; a daddy’s church and a mommy’s church that shattered me. The place that is supposed to be most whole and holy; starting out already completely broken and so un-whole.)
Slowly God moved in that moment and said:
And if it is? If she has two churches. Kaylee... [PAUSE]...LET THAT BE ENOUGH...And then let’s make something beautiful of it.
LET THAT BE ENOUGH.
God didn’t say it to me in a way like a parent might say to an ungrateful kid.
He said it to me like a parent tucking me in with the warm softest-coziest of blankets; inviting me into comfort and rest.
Those words have sat in my heart the past month. Over and over I hear, LET THAT BE ENOUGH. When I worry. When I fear. When I want to control. When I don’t get it. When I don’t like it. When I want to run. When I feel anxious. When the rat race in my head runs and runs… These words, an ever-constant invitation, to let go…and let that, which is, be enough.
When this happens. When LET THAT BE ENOUGH takes the wheel of my heart, everything stops for a second. My mind haults. My soul stills. Time freezes.
AND THEN I BREATHE.
With hands open and arms extended to receive.
I THEN BREATHE AGAIN. DEEP.
And I look around.
And for a moment, it is well with me.
And we do it again. And again.
WE LET IT BE ENOUGH.
It’s not easy, you know. Letting it be enough.
And tonight, I thought maybe you’re not going through a divorce (or maybe you are). But maybe life is just hard. Like you get the mental rat-race thing. Like maybe you get the anxious heart and soul. Like maybe it doesn’t feel enough. Like maybe you don't feel like you're good enough. Like maybe life doesn't feel like it's enough.
I wanted you to know I get it.
And that maybe we start with letting it be enough.
Sit with me? Breathe with me? Extend your arms and open your hands with me? And then breathe again?
Now lean in here and listen close because I have a secret... as you inhale and exhale, do you feel it? Do you hear it? Do you?
It’s enough; isn’t it?
I think maybe that feeling. It’s a tiny bit of hope with a heapfull of peace.
And when you feel that, NOW what do you see? Now what beauty is yours for the taking?
Last night a dear friend texted me this:
I know I have days where I "wonder why" or think "this can't be right". That's when I pay attention to the little things: how graceful my daughter looks dancing on stage when I secretly watch from the back of the auditorium or my son gets his drum combo just right and I hear him celebrating to himself in his room. It's the little triumphs in every day that I focus on!
As I read her text all I could hear over and over was, man this friend of mine, she knows how to live out LET THAT BE ENOUGH.
Gawd tonight. I'm longing that we all may be the kind of people with eyes to see as my dear friend sees.