An Ode To Us

This is to you. To you who have been walking a tightrope for a long time, fairly confident you were doing well but found yourself in the middle, heart beating wildly and terrifyingly high in the sky.

This is to us. To us who are exhausted. To those of us who feel as if one more step will cause us to fall, we're in the middle of a desert and there is no comfort in sight. No beds, no inviting shelter to at least protect us from the long night.

This is to us. To us who have entered the valley of the shadow of death. The corpses are all around us, and the memories of grief haunt us.

This is for you. To you who feels this heavy sadness sinking like a millstone around your neck. The kind of sadness where the lights turn off and all you see is darkness.

This is for me. Who carries all this weight and juggles all these stories and all this emotion. This is for me, finally admitting that things are not okay.


And there it was, the beauty in the crumbling. The shining light in the midnight of this soul. The breath in this panic.
The vulnerability was shining lights into our kaleidoscope hearts.
The truth was burning light into our deepest pains and into the reality of our hurt.
The loveliness that came with the sadness in our voices when we finally said, "I'm not okay."
We crawled out of our cocoons and how marvelous it was to be free.
We dropped our baggage and our self-inflicted weight and how splendidly free we were.

Everything was falling apart. And that is when his voice was the mightiest.

"O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted,

behold, I will set your stones in antimony,

and lay your foundations with sapphires." ~ Isaiah 54:11

His voice, it came gently, boldly, speaking to the disintegrating foundations of my heart.

His love, it swept in ravishing my soul, destroying every lie and inviting me into a beautiful rest, where it was his work, not my own; his strength, my weakness; his beauty, my dilapidated heart

and he began to rebuild. 

When I was 16, my aunt bought me a ring that quoted Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God." And she, knowing me so well, continually reminds me of that ring. "Leah, be still," she tells me. Parts of me feel I cannot be still. I have many things to carry, many tasks to accomplish, many messes to clean, many hearts to mend. I'm on a mission, I am a whirlwind. andhowcanIbestillwhenIjustcantstop? howcanIbestillwhenIrunsofast? I'm unstoppable,unbreakable,invincible. And yet, as I type that, I know it isn't true. And that verse comes back to me in its context.

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, 

though the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy habitation of the Most High,

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;

God will help her when morning dawns.

The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;

he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come, behold the works of the Lord,

how he has brought desolations on the earth. 

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth,

he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the chariots with fire.

"Be still and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

There is a very real struggle here. The Psalmist is witnessing his entire world crumble. The very ground he stands on is unstable. He is unsteady as he watches mountains be thrust into the sea and he watches on the shoreline as the waves become angrier and angrier. And yet, as he witnesses the world fall apart, he sees something even more beautiful; God. God is his refuge and his strength and he sees how ever-present He is. As the kingdoms totter and fall, he hears God speak and the earth melts, goes soft, becomes putty in His hands. Come, He tells us, come and see the works of the Lord, and be still. This Greek word means to sink down, relax, and be quiet. God is telling us, Stop your striving and know (yada) that I am God. Yada is the Greek word for intimacy. Stop striving and know me. The invitation is to enter into His character and His love. To become face to face with His Kindness and His Goodness. 

It's been a rough week. For a moment, I thought my world was crumbling, my life had rewound and I was reliving my own history. There was an overwhelming anxiety, but even greater was God's call to stop striving, stop trying, to stop. And to know that He was God. Despite my unsteady heart, despite the shaky ground and the brokenness around me, He was still God and He was my refuge and strength. 

But I know that my world was not the only one that fell apart this week. A few very dear friends struggled this week also. But it was so lovely how we all rallied around each other. We gave each other what we had out of our brokenness and together there was comfort and encouragement in these rough days. 

And so, this is for us. This is an ode to us in our brokenness and our sadness and our helplessness. This is a gift of hope in our frightening circumstances and our overwhelmed hearts.

To the one on the tightrope? What you don't know is that God watched you walk out there, in all your confidence and pride. But you looked down, like Peter on the water, fear paralyzed you. And what you don't know is that there is a net below even if you fall. But if keep your eyes steady and fixed on him I promise you'll make it to the other side.

To the one is exhausted? You may not see a shelter and you may not see a reprieve from the demands that won't stop knocking on your door, but there is a promise when you turn to him in that desert place. Your way is not hidden from the Lord. "Have you not known? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted, but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; the shall walk and not faint."

To the one in the valley? Oh love, don't you remember the verse? Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, fear no evil for God is with you, his rod and his staff, they comfort you." My friend, this is just the shadow. Death cannot harm you, death has no sting on you. Because the Lord is your shepherd. In these pangs of grief, remember his gentle comfort and his good heart.

And to the one carrying such a heavy weight? His yoke is easy and his burden is light. You were never called to fix everyone, or carry everyone's burdens, that is only a job our strong God can do. You, my friend, were called to encourage and pray. You my friend, who try and hold the entire world together, can you not remember that was never your job? Come and rest tonight in his everlasting love and his kind heart. 

This is to us. But this is not about us. This is an invitation to let God be God. This is an invitation to rest in his everlasting love and to just be still and know that He is God. So wherever you are tonight, whether you are on a mountaintop, in the valley, carrying a burden too heavy for your small arms, exhausted or walking out on an unknown tightrope, God is with you and God is for you. 

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved. ~ Psalm 46:5