It’s probably no accident that this week’s “Stuck” study at church was “Sad”.  Now – this is something I feel like I know very well. Even as a child I was always very sensitive.  I felt things so deeply, hurt for people.  I was always worried about what people were thinking, feeling about me and desperately afraid of rejection.  My heart has been transparent for as long as I can remember, nerves super close to the surface – as if I’m missing that top layer of skin. This benefits me in a lot of ways, one being an empathy for others that I hope I never lose.  A depth of feeling that I hope makes me a trustworthy confidante.  But it also makes things difficult, as I get my feelings hurt very easily and am constantly working through dashed expectations.  Vann can tell you, it’s sometimes daily that he’s reminding me that yes, I am a good wife, a good mother, a good friend.  Yes, I am good enough, and doggone it, people like me. I’ve struggled with depression most of my adult life, seen therapists, abused alcohol and thought over the benefits of suicide.  I have lived in despair.  I recently weaned off of Wellbutrin, the anti-depressant I’d been taking since Ella was born.  “So that explains my recent very short fuse”, I think to myself.  It was time, but I gotta say, I’m a little nervous about losing my security blanket. In our study today, Jennie Allen directed us to Romans 8:22 – 22 For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children,[a] including the new bodies he has promised us. 24 We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope[b] for it. 25 But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.) I am well aware of the dull ache I feel in my heart – it’s been a companion of mine for as long as I can remember.  I know that I have a tendency towards depression, could be that it runs in my family.  Whatever it is, it’s been there – but I know it’s also a hole that only God can fill. Medication can help, therapy can give me someone safe and subjective to talk to, and community can give me the fold I need to belong to. But when I’m feeling sad because I don’t have that “go-to” friend in a “bestie” culture… When friends get together and post a picture on Facebook and I wasn’t invited… When I worry about what people really think of me… When I wish I could eat what I want and not suffer the consequence of a tighter pair of jeans… When I just feel sad for really no reason at all… John 16:33 says, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” God doesn’t promise me that I’ll be happy, or healthy, or content.  In fact, He says we’ll be just the opposite.  Our hope lies in the fact that Jesus died for our sins and in eternity, we will have everlasting life and peace. Until then, we have to remember that this Earthly life is temporary.  Our greatest joys lie ahead. No more holes in our hearts. No more sadness. No more tragedy. No judgment or condemnation – complete peace and acceptance of YOUR body that HE made. And… Streets lined with glitter. All the pie you can eat. And no need for Spanx. Can I get an Amen?!!

My Grandad passed away Friday the 26th of October.  In his sleep, in his den, in the hospital bed that had taken the place of his beloved recliner.  I was working a clothing booth at a vendor show and had missed my Dad’s call.  I noticed that Vann was calling me and not leaving messages so I quickly took the call – he was with the girls, trying to find me so he could tell me the news.  Immediately, tears sprang to my eyes and I felt my stomach fall out from underneath me.  Because I was working, I had to keep it together until the designer could come and relieve me.  When I got outside, the 50 degree temp hit me smack in the face.  It was cold and windy, a beautiful sunny day – what would ordinarily bring me enormous pleasure was bittersweet.  When I got to the car, I struggled for my keys and got into the front seat and turned on the heat.  And wept.  For my Grandad, who I had lost.  For my Mimi, who I knew he was finally walking with in heaven – 25 years after she lost her battle with ovarian cancer.  For my Mom, who now faces life without her parents. For my brothers, who I knew would be mourning just as much, if not more, than I. I got home to my family and a husband I am still undeserving of.  He held me while I cried.  It felt really weird, knowing I wouldn’t see my Grandad at Christmas.  Wouldn’t get to chat with him the next time we brought the girls by.  The finality of life.  Just shy of 90 years on this Earth.  Oh, the stories he could tell. The funeral was the following Tuesday.  On a little hill in New Summerfield, Texas, my Grandad was buried next to my Mimi, side-by-side, for all eternity.  My Mom asked my brothers and I to read eulogies – so I read the post I wrote here only a couple weeks before.  My brothers wrote and read their own versions, and as anyone who knows me knows, if I’m around you’ll never cry alone.  (It’s like my tears are hard-wired to my soul.  I am hopeless that way.)  So when they went first and the tears began to fall, well, mine flowed as well.  My sweet brothers, saying goodbye to a man whom they had admired and were deeply saddened to let go. And on that hill, four grandchildren (including my cousin Michal who sat beside me) grew up just a little bit more, as the stability and history of our Grandad was all we would have to remember him by.  He isn’t with us anymore, and soon, his body will turn to dust and the pocket watch he was buried with will rust over. But his soul, the place where the Holy Spirit inhabits, will live on.  No more pain, no more suffering, nothing more than the great, amazing face of Jesus as his spirit was called Home. And that, my friends, is what’s on my heart today, as we face the morning after the election.  I try really hard not to “get political” because I have a sensitive heart, and inevitably, get my feelings hurt.  I self-protect by keeping my mouth shut.  I’m going to try (read: try) to not focus on the disappointment I feel (because I do feel it) and instead call out what I believe to be the lesson here.  Lord knows I have a tendency to go off the deep end when it comes to worry.  Fortunately, I am married to a man who is the most stable, most level-headed, most faithful man – my total opposite and everything I desperately need.  And when he reminded me of the sovereignty of our God last night I felt this…peace…come over me.  Like none of it matters.  Truly. I heard God say, “I’ve got this.” “I’ve got you.” And as long as we can remember this, we are on the right track.  “My” guy may not have been elected last night, but really, it doesn’t matter who is President, Because Jesus is King. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.  To share my faith, to say who my God is, to live my life in a way that points towards the heavenly Kingdom. Romans 8:28 says, 28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who[a] have been called according to his purpose. According to His purpose. He’s got this.