Stuck in The Middle of The Story
When things are hard, all I want to do is pray for health and happiness and for the burden to be lifted. I want light and airy sunshiny days and my worries to be a million miles away. I want to book a trip to the Bahamas or Disney World and escape from this nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from. And when I succumb to these feelings, I usually end up numbing out on Netflix reruns, scrolling mindlessly through pictures of other people’s lives, pretending for a minute that mine isn’t what it is currently.
On my better days, I pay attention to that little nudge hinting that maybe there is meaning to the madness. There is a kind of growth that only comes from enduring hardship. In these moments, I exhale deeply and thank God for the opportunity to trust Him. If we’re being honest, I’m not particularly interested in an opportunity to trust (at least not nearly as interested as, say, a spa day and a three hour nap). But something deep inside tells me that when I want relief more than anything else, God is trying to stir in me a desire for something greater, something holier. And so often I find that I am trying to pray myself out of needing God. I ask for things to get easier, for finances to increase, good health, happy, perfectly behaved children…I pray for all the things that would otherwise keep me tethered and wholly surrendered.
The middle is where we become better versions of ourselves over and over again so that we have a story worth sharing.
I won’t pretend I have any experience rejoicing in my suffering like James so famously suggests. But I’m learning that my prayers tend to reveal a lot about the things I value most; and I’m not very happy about what they’ve taught me. So I’m rewriting my prayers. Last week our family endured 8 days of a stomach bug straight out of hell. I’m the kind of tired where I frequently find myself planning vacations I have no business (or resources) planning. But I want better for myself and for my family. Perhaps the best I can give my boys (and myself) are not promises that things will get easier, but a surrendered self that says there is purpose to be found even here. We are growing in this moment, and if we soften ourselves to the hardship—allowing it to shape us instead of break us—we will find something so much more fulfilling than momentary happiness.
Here’s what I know about the middle— It is not glamorous or exhilarating, but it is where I learn to be a more patient and compassionate person. It’s where the inner work is done; the kind that goes down deep like roots in order for something resilient and lovely to blossom. The middle is often tiring and monotonous, but it is also what keeps me from becoming entitled and ungrateful. It keeps me humble to the process and thankful for things as simple as a good night’s sleep or an afternoon spent in the sun after what feels like weeks of rain. The middle is where we become better versions of ourselves over and over again so that we have a story worth sharing.
I don’t know what your “middle” looks like right now but I believe undoubtedly if you let it, beauty can spring forth from even the darkest of ashes.
“When life is sweet say thank you and celebrate. When life is bitter, say thank you and grow.” -Shauna Niequist
