The Real Deal

So, here it is. I've started this post a number of times today, fully meaning to write about the new kittens the girls got (only the sixth and seventh this year), or how great the bird houses look that my ladies (with the help from their Dad) made for me for my birthday since Art put them up.... all acceptable posts, however, not really true to what is really going on with me. So now, feeling convicted and completely vulnerable, here's the real deal.

I've had the lifeblood slowly being sucked out of me lately. I don't know what it is. The things that I normally love and enjoy and feel rejuvenated by doing have slowly been sucking the life right out of me. I love being a mom. Love it! Love being at homes with my girls. Love making our home a special place where we can regroup, and refocus, and where others (hopefully) can also. But as of late, I've felt so dissatisfied. I feel so terrible even saying it, but if I am going to be authentic, then say it I must. It seems like nothing brings me joy. I've been impatient with my family (scary Mom has been hanging around here lately a little more than she is welcome!), and just have felt like I have no life left in me.

This brings me to a point of reflection - what is WRONG with me? I am not myself. I can't seem to find God in all of this, which, for me, is the most disconcerting thing of all. I've felt desperate to hear His voice, which I cannot seem to. I just want something....anything....from Him. I don't care what! Just something. So, as some of you may know, I am heading away on Thursday for my little 'retreat', which Art got me for my birthday. How timely. One of the main reasons that I wanted to do this was to (hopefully) connect with God again. And so, I am starting to prepare. Prepare my heart to meet with Him. Prepare my spirit for what I believe He wants to do with me. Prepare my ears and eyes to hear and see what He has for me. Quiet myself.

I am trying to expect great things of my time away. Trying. Truth be told, I am more just hoping for a teeny, tiny whisper of something. Anything. I want to say that when I come back, I know that God will have met me and it was amazing and wonderful and fantastic and all is well. Honestly, that is what I hope for. But then there's the part of me that doesn't want to be dissapointed. I feel a little like perhaps the woman in the crowd felt with Jesus...if I could just touch his cloak. Well, I want more than to touch his cloak, but I guess part of me is scared to ask for that. I am willing to settle for anything, these days. In my secret place, I guess I want to reach out and touch his cloak, and then He turns around and says, "Teresa!!! What's going on? I've missed you so much! Come on, we've got lots of catching up to do! Let me quench your thirsty spirit. Come away with me..."

I'm not sure if I have the courage to hope for that for myself, though. Perhaps you could hope for me?