Forgive yourself.

Do you ever struggle to forgive yourself?

No one is holding anything over your head. No one is angry. No conflict.

But you can't shake it...

Memories come up from the past, and you're right back in that place---weighed down with feelings of regret and sorrow for being a stupid, selfish jerk.

Maybe you can relate?

Two things strirred up all of that yucky stuff for me this week: the birthday of one friend and an email from another.

Seems harmless enough. But...

These are friends I've wronged. They're also friends who have given me grace. Friends who like me. Friends who love me in spite of and because of. Mostly inspite of.


image credit

So, a really long time ago there was this father who asked Jesus to heal his son---his son had been really sick for a long time, and he was desperate! He told Jesus:

But, if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.

Oops!

If you can! Jesus said. All things are possible for one who believes.

Grace!

Immediately, the father cried out to Jesus:

I believe; help my unbelief!

Jesus had mercy on them, and the boy was healed.
(paraphrased from Mark 9:14-29)
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I believe too! I believe I'm forgiven. But I forget.

In the girls' Bible, we read to them every night, it describes God's love as a

Never Stopping
Never Giving Up
Unbreaking
Always and Forever Love

I believe that I'm loved like that.
I believe that because Jesus loved me like that, he died for me; forgiving me.

Even though I know all of that--whispers of doubt, fear and regret creep in.

So, when whispers start up---I have to cry out to God, because I think that's what he wants from us.

Help my unbelief! Help me forgive myself. Help me rest in grace. 

Linking with Jen and Michelle.

Rest

As I type, it's a rainy, gloomy Sunday. The entire house is asleep. It's peaceful.

I listen to the gentle patter of rain.

My thoughts go to the idea of rest.

Sabbath rest.



As a mama, I feel the constant demand of mama-ing.

When the girls are awake I feed them, dress them, fix their hair, read to them, play with them, teach them, change diapers, referee disputes, and kiss bumps and bruises.

When the girls are asleep, I prepare meals, mend torn books, fold laundry, clean, straiten, organize, have my own meal, and sit down for just a moment to catch my breath. All, so I can do the above list all over again when they wake up.

It's constant, and I find myself questioning, even agonizing over whether it's enough. Mama-ing is an important job, after all. Tending to God's sheep.

In all of that, I often forget. I'm a sheep too.

I need rest. Physical rest, yes. More importantly, I need soul rest.

I need to intentionally sit and bask in the delight that God takes in me, his sheep, his daughter. I need to let the words, ...it is very good... that Jesus spoke when he created me, soak into my soul.

None of my lists above do anything to change God's delight and pleasure in who I am. Meditating on that is freeing, and brings great rest to my soul.

Practically? How do I do this?

Connecting with God is such a personal and intentional thing. Praying and reading the Bible are such Sunday school answers. While important and necessary, connecting with God is so much more than that.

I find Sabbath rest in my garden. He makes my flowers lovely and our vegetables flourish--that beauty seeps into my soul. Even in the winter--the bones of last year's growth is full of beautiful promise.

I find Sabbath rest in a good glass of wine. The complex flavors dance over my tounge--I whisper, Thank you, Jesus.

I find Sabbath rest in words. Writing. Reading. Listening.

How do you find Sabbath rest?