I love this blog. This girl has suffered. And her hurting helped my hurting. Her honesty carried me through at times.
The final line on this post resonates in me. ...and I will know that I tried with my all.
That's all I want. To know that I have tried with my all. This season is hard and stretching. Running a small business and raising small children means constant evaluation. Making room for so much means letting so much go.
I long for Him. I may not talk about my God a lot but He is always on my mind. I long to hear the wrods "well done good and faithful servant" one day. And I want to tell Him that I gave it my all. Everything I had. Most times it wasn't enough and often it was so little, but I give it my all.
I love to imagine meeting Him for coffee. At my happy place. He's big and solid and kind-of reassuring in presence. We get our coffee- me a tall soy mocha and him a venti long black. No sugar thanks. The boy serving us wonders why this giant of a man makes him feel so safe and this brings him to tears that he hides behind the coffee machine.
We wander over to the banquet seating and we sit down. I sit beside Him and get as close to Him as I physically can. I imagine Him ewaring a thick wool coat that feels warm and scratchy when I rest my cheek against His arm.
We sip our coffee not saying anything. I can feel Him just waiting for me. There's no rush, He will wait for me. Tears thicken my throat and well up inside me. There's so much I want to say but the most important words that come out are "I gave it my all, Jesus. I tried."
I am weak and so very mortal. I am broken and extremely tired. But I want to know that I gave it my all. That I loved Him beyond measure and that, for Him, I tried.