Faithful in the Fray

My thin place.

My sacred place.

The place that has seen the most tears.

Held the most heavy conversations.

Heard the deepest cries from a scared, tired, worried, grieving, pain-filled, angry, hopeless, Sara as she petitioned the Gates of Heaven.

Listened to the whispers of the words I’m pregnant after years and years.

Held space for the wrestling of the should we/shouldn’t we as we navigate the season we’re stepping into.

This closet has seen me, the real me, for the last 5 years.

When Maizie was in the middle of her PANDAS flares and I’d need a mom-minute, I’d sit in the closet.

When big decisions had to be made and I didn’t want any other voices to cloud my thoughts, I’d sit in the closet.

When we talked through fostering & eventually adopting, I sat in the closet and prayed.

When I worried during pregnancy, I’d sit in silence, weeping, letting peace wash over me, in the closet.

When I got really difficult news, if I wasn’t there initially, I’d make my way there immediately.

My kids knew, if they can’t find mom, look in the closet.

This season we’re in the midst of has kept me in the closet. Job loss, financial hardship, moving, amongst many other things. It’s been heavy, but it hasn’t crushed me.

My closet has been a thin place to meet with Jesus. Sometimes I say nothing but know He’s there by the calm I feel. Sometimes I ask so I can listen, keeping a journal close by in case He wants to say anything back. Above all, it’s a place He lets me be me, and He meets me there every time.

Tonight is the last night in this closet. When I first sat here many moons ago we were a family of 3, and tonight as I snapped a couple pictures with my guys, I was reminded, yet again, of the promise this family of 5 represents.

Thank you, Jesus for this space.