In the deep hours of the night I lie awake. Everyone else is sleeping so why can’t I just fall asleep? I hate that this has become so routine. I need to sleep. But, the more I think about it, the less I can sleep. So, I start to pray… as I’ve learned to do while in the mission field.
Now this might sound like such a great habit, but the questions I catch myself asking, halfway through a prayer, are: “Do you actually believe what you are praying? Do you actually believe that God can still hear you? That He still, truly, cares about you?”
I hate these questions, not because I know that there’s no truth in them, but I hate it because it’s really causing me to doubt my faith. I’m in a downward spiral of doubting God and doubting that He truly loves me and cares for me and, most importantly, that He has a plan for my life…
These are NOT thoughts that a pastor’s wife should be harbouring… especially not a worship pastor’s wife! Our whole ministry is based on the knowledge of God’s goodness and that His praises should be heard in the voices of His people. How can I model this lifestyle, if I don’t feel it?
For the longest time, I believed that, as women in leadership, especially in the church, we are supposed to set the example for other women, and to have it all together. (Honestly, what does have it all together even mean?) I have felt like such a failure, because almost every day, for the past couple of months, I’ve wanted to shout it out from the rooftops: “I don’t have it all together, and I don’t even care about it!”
Shocking, right? Wrong.
I’m just a human being. A woman who’s sometimes exhausted of juggling a house, a new-born, a toddler, a husband, a ministry, a church, and my own identity. Amidst all of this I’ve had to deal with the emotional rollercoaster of having two miscarriages and honestly it was just too much. How do you lead anyone when you can’t even seem to pick yourself up off the ground?
The scariest part is that I thought I had to do it all by myself. “Having it all together” in my mind at least, didn’t just apply to my public persona, but to my private persona as well. I had to struggle through it all on my own, and it honestly was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
Even though I knew that we were created to live in community, as a leader, I thought it didn’t apply to me. For the longest time I struggled forward, trying to keep up appearances, and getting nowhere. It was only once I started sharing the truth of what was going on in my heart, with a small group of trusted friends that I began to feel some sanity again. It was only once I started admitting out loud that I doubt God and the plans He has for me that I’ve started to gain some perspective.
It was only once I started admitting out loud that I doubt God and the plans He has for me that I’ve started to gain some perspective.
So now, being able to speak about the questions I have in my heart, my struggles, my emotional turmoil, brings perspective. When it’s said out loud, a burden lifts off of my shoulders and I am able to see all the pieces of a broken me. It’s not about having it all together, but rather about getting an understanding of who you are at the lowest part of yourself, so that you can lead others out of a place of brokenness
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