The bad place

Look who's 1 year old!

Had a very successful day. Spent the morning throwing a football and watching the kids run here and there and everywhere; even ran into a dear friend, which was truly a treat. Both kids went down for a nap relatively easily, and I even took a short snooze. Ahhh, sweet sleep. Woke up with just enough time to hop in the shower, get myself, a whiny still half napping boy, and the baby ready for her birthday party.

Enjoyed some time with family and some friends and their kidlets. I always love getting all the kids together. They're so fun to watch. (I'll write more about the birthday party later.)

The spousal unit took off for the evening to hang with some guys around a fire pit, drinking who-knows-what manly drink, smoking cigars and pipes, and talking philosophy and theology. He actually asked me if this was ok. I still kind of giggle about that. I love when he has the opportunity to fellowship with his buddies. It has been years since he's had this kind of friendship so close. What kind of wife would I be if I denied him something so fundamental to the joy of his soul? I appreciate his asking. And I know why he did, considering the week we've had with our son. His being out for the evening meant my being alone with two kids, and having to do the bedtime routine solo. Very sweet of him, but.... Assuming he's out late, and the kids eventually go to sleep, it leaves me some time to truly be left in solitude. Double win.

I'm happy to report that both children went down fairly easily.

Alone at last.

This is the way I'm rolling this evening. Candles lit, Jason Wade radio on Pandora through the Bose, a bottle of Merlot, and the tapping of my fingers on a keyboard trying to keep up with my thoughts.

Not a bad way to spend an evening, let me tell you.

I was just commenting to Scott how I'm slowly turning from my extroverted ways toward a more inwardly thoughtful, introverted me.  Sure, I still enjoy being around people, for the most part, primarily depending upon who those people are. But, it wears me out. It wasn't too long ago when wherever there was a party, I was in the middle of it. I loved large, rowdy groups of people. God forbid I ever found myself alone... with my thoughts. Yipes!

I can still do rowdy, and I love a good party, especially where there is lively conversation, lots of laughter, and maybe even some dancing, but I do more watching than instigating. And when it's all said and done, rather than being sad that it's over, I'm relieved. 

If I'm being honest, I'd rather be alone with one or two other people, specifically trusted friends. Where silence is comfortable, and the conversation, when it does occur, isn't superficial. Where laughter is just one of many components, not the main ingredient.

I do enjoy being alone these days, now more than ever. Not just because my life in a very short period of time got turned ass over tea kettle. But also because my thoughts are actually pretty interesting. I'm amused at some of the things that I come up with when left to my own devices. Oh, if you could see inside my head... I'm actually quite delighted that most people can't see that far into me. (One or two can.... but only because they are very perceptive.)

There's another side to this, too. This season has left me really digging deep to find places in me that I've ignored, but need to pay a little attention to. Maybe past hurts that I've covered up. Maybe past struggles that I've just been able to ignore. Maybe current inner conflicts.

I've had my faith tested these last couple of years. And I mean tested, as in Satan attempting to take my hand and offer me some rather beautiful alternatives. (Of course, they aren't beautiful at all! That's his deception. It would be like taking a turd and wrapping it in a big red bow. Sure, the bow is nice. But it's still a turd. Just sayin'.) Luckily, I recognize his lies and put him in his rightful place pretty quickly. And, as a result, my faith has grown exponentially.

But the inner conflict is still there. Not only that, but because I'm being deliberate about opening doors I haven't opened in a really long time, there's some pretty ugly stuff in there that I didn't realize was still there. I'm finding myself being pulled in two directions - the old and new self. The think-of-others self versus the think-of-myself self. The it-matters-to-me self versus couldn't-give-a-crap self. The garden-is-quite-lush self versus the grass-is-greener self.  The what-would-others-think self versus they-can-go-screw-themselves self. The straight-and-narrow self versus the sick-of-being-responsible self. The virtuous self versus the wicked self. 

Not a pretty place to be.

But on second thought, maybe this is where character is built. I hate the struggle, but welcome the refinement. I loathe the pruning, but welcome the fruit. I despise the fire, but welcome the purification.

I'll put it out there... I admit that my reaction is to close my fists and refuse to let Jesus take that part. I'll give Him a bunch of other stuff, but not that. That is mine. I like that in the darkness, in my secrets.

Another lie.

It does not behoove us to hide our stuff from the One who holds our very breath in His hands. And because I've already declared my allegiance to Him, He is very purposeful with how He pursues me. Jesus is funny like that. He knows just what it takes to make me sit up and pay attention.  The freedom He offers is captivating.

So, here I am, inviting Jesus into the ugly stuff. Opening the door to the bad place. I'm peeling my fingers open, one by one. Sure, there's a part of me that just screams wanting to be unyielding. I pray I have the strength and resolve to place it all at the foot of the cross.

Here ya go, Lord.