Tuesday, January 10


Bad news is like a virus. Not like the flu virus, more like the ebola virus. Silent, but deadly. Even the smallest case of it or the slightest exposure can cause a breakout of emotions and tears and confusion. And by now we all know that it has everything to do with how we handle our bad news, and less to do with the actual bad news. I'll probably get a C- in the handling part.

We got more of it today yesterday. Bad news, that is. Not like the stops you in your tracks, makes you question your whole life and all its choices, steals your breath from your lungs kind of bad news, but more like the one more brick to add to the plate bad news. One more item to add to the stack of bad news I haven't handled too well already.

And all I can think is, how much more?

How much more will we be given? How much more will we be tested with? How much more will we be handed just to see if we'll hand it back over to God?

And I feel like an idiot. We had a great weekend. A great weekend of laughter and football and food and relaxation. I spoke to other people-publically-about the newfound hope I had, and the sun that was finally coming around the dark tunnel. I boasted about my heart being changed and my moods being better. I even spoke about the movie I watched that made me feel like one day I'd laugh about this stuff.

And then my laughter turned into more crying. I let my guard down, or something.

And I know God has things under control. I know that this is actually probably for the better. And I know someday this is going to make for a damn good story. But for Pete's sake, I'm so, so, so-so tired.

And I also know that "we are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." And that's all very good news. But the crushed feels like a cinder block on each of my sides, causing me to gasp for air and claw my way out. The struck down makes me feel like that's all impossible because I'm so, so tired.

Larry Crabb says that you never get to truly know God without suffering, and you never get to truly see your real self, the deep down parts, without going through stressful, draining events. All whining aside, I'm sure he is right. But the fleshy-messy side of me wants to know when the suffering ends and when the stressful, draining events will let up long enough to have more than a 24 hour time-span of laughter and relaxation.


  1. Do you remember Mary and Joseph? Of course you do. If Mary was a blogger I would imagine she would be writing the same stuff you do. You are not alone.

  2. I know exactly what you mean. The past six months of my life have been like that. Among other times too, of course. It feels a whole lot like drowning, fighting to keep from going under and running out of strength to hold your head up. It's a dark place and it's hard to let people into that, so I'm glad to see you doing it. My first years of marriage were difficult too.

  3. It feels just like that, Tammy. The drowning, the fighting, the weary and tired. I get the roar, too. If I could just quiet the roaring fears in my head long enough to hear a roar like Aslan's...

  4. Boy can I relate to this...not the marriage part just the piling on of bad news and the everyday struggle just to make it through and the crying-yes the crying.
    It's weird reading this because it feels like you pulled my thoughts over the last few months and wrote them here

  5. Lindsey,
    I hate that you can relate to this, I'm so sorry. :( My suggestion, take a day off. Give yourself a little room to breathe and relax and remember that things get better. Even though that's usually the hardest part. I also recommend you grabbing the book 'The Pressure's Off' by Larry Crabb.

    Keep in touch, I'm praying for you <3