Some additional things you should know about me before I move on:  When I say I’m a people pleaser, that also means when I’ve done something dumb, I tend to double down, because I can’t go back on what I said, as this would send me into an “are they mad at me cycle” that goes nowhere.  And also, I love my kids.  I even love some other people’s kids.  However, I am a much better little kid mom than big kid mom.  The tween/teen years have aged me approximately 943 years, and the thought of being surrounded by 75 high schoolers I don’t know was like a fever dream full of my own worst teenage mean girl experiences all over again….the experience itself was only half as traumatic as the first time.

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Given that I am not writing this from the grave, I obviously survived.  Mostly.  But I also learned some things about myself:

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• I’m stronger than I give myself credit for.

• Packing like a normal person is not a life skill I possess – three people could survive for a month on what I brought with me for a five-day trip.

• God has a sense of humor.

• Nature has some incredible healing properties (even when your brain is overriding your good sense by insisting you are going to be eaten by an anaconda if you give in to the Texas heat and follow everyone into the river).

 

To be honest, despite (over)preparing for this little adventure, I didn’t anticipate that I would have some bigger things to unpack than my dirty laundry…beginning with the fact that I was furious.  I knew I was struggling and that my grief was still really fresh after losing my dad.  I knew that the loss left me heartbroken, but the anger?  That was a surprise.  I was angry at myself for not being home when he died and for missing his last phone call.  I was angry at my dad for leaving us, along with a host of other complicated emotions that go along with loving another human being.  And most of all, I was angry at God for taking the person who had bandaged my scraped knees and broken hearts, saw beauty in my ashes, and still loved me so completely.  If I’m being completely transparent, I still am.  But my dad was the one who taught me that God can handle our anger, so I’m testing that theory. Is it easy?  No.  Have I worked through it like a “good Christian girl” should?  Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not usually my process.  Have I learned some important lessons through this ongoing search for something I can’t quite name?  Abso-freaking-lutely.

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Now here’s a bit of insight into my particular brand of crazy…I have a laugh-in-the-most-inopportune-moments reputation.  I’ll bring levity into almost any situation. But sometimes, our tears can’t be dammed. One of the most life-changing lessons I’m still learning in this season is that my feelings, even the ugly, dirty, unspeakable ones I’d rather hide from the world, don’t scare the one who made me.  So I keep choosing, day after day, to carry on my dad’s legacy by not giving up, even on the worst days.  Not on you.  Not on me.  Not on the good I still believe is in the world, no matter how well it hides.  Not on my faith that sometimes seems just out of reach, because I know, even when I can’t feel it, it’s still bigger than my fears and my doubts.  And when I listen, it speaks loudly to my soul…

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When the weight of life presses in,
When heartbreak, struggle, and anger feel too heavy to carry,
We remember, we were not made for a fragile existence.

We were created with intention,
Strengthened in the fire,
Fortified through every storm already weathered
Prepared for what’s yet to come.

We’re not hardened into stone,
but shaped like water.
Fluid. Powerful. Unbroken.
Unyielding as the world dares to dam our path, carving new channels,
Forging life where there was none.

And throughout the journey, we remember:
That nothing on this side of heaven or hell,

Can silence His current within us

Or lessen the power we contain.

We are the river.

Endlessly moving, endlessly alive.

Created for more.