On Tension, Weakness, and Adoring Him from the Floor

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I have sat down to write this blog post three different times, and y’all, I’ve been utterly unsuccessful at piecing words together into a cool package this time. So I’m offering to you these three incomplete ideas today, in hopes that something in them will touch or spark or inspire or provoke something in you.

I.

 I am so aware in this season of all my weak places. My brokenness. My limits.

I’m aware of my physical weakness. My continual struggle with headaches and the way the pain limits my ability to “perform” as a mom, a wife, a friend.

My creative, introverted, introspective heart, and how my resulting need for silence and space limits my capacity to be busy, to be on the go. My capacity to measure up to the expectations and desires of those in my real life world.

I so feel all the ways in which I don’t measure up. I speak to my son more harshly than I should. I fail to deeply connect with my husband’s heart. I fail to respond to messages from friends. I lack the “right” words to whisper into painful situations.

Inadequate. That’s it. I feel so doggone aware of my inadequacy these days, and looking at all my weakness from outside the scope of the Gospel’s power, my failures add up to an overwhelming mountain. An avalanche of not-enough-ness. The distance feels so great — this gap between where I want to be in terms of physical health and emotional wholeness and maturity in the Lord, and where I am now.

But all this acute awareness of my incomplete, imperfect, immature places — it doesn’t feel like condemnation or beating myself up. It feels like gut-level honesty with myself before the Lord. And it’s good. It’s the raw ache of awareness of my need for Him.

II.

I so long for the Lord to sell our house. We’ve had showings, and I know it only takes one buyer, but that person has not materialized yet.

There’s this weird mix these days of tangible grace for this season because we’re choosing to stay present and tuned into Jesus in the midst of it; and this growing, pounding sense that our time here in inner city Kansas City is UP.

The degree to which I do not want to be raising our children in this neighborhood is high. The degree to which God is asking us to wholeheartedly live and love here while we wait is equally high.

The tension is real and thick and painful. The grace is just as real, just as thick, and matches the pain most of the time so I feel like I’m living in this strange grace-bubble of mostly-okayness and peace in the midst of this deep unmet longing.

III.

Right alongside the acute awareness of my weakness and the tension of living in a place our hearts no longer want to be, this cry rises over and over again to the surface of my heart:

Just let me love you well in this crazy tension. Let me love you well in my weakness. Let love for you ooze out of all my cracks and gaps and my utter inadequacy. Right here in the middle of all that’s not yet fulfilled, let my heart bleed with holy, broken, unrestrained, undignified love.

The awareness of my weakness — He asks me to press all of it into His heart and let Him love me right here, right where I can do nothing to earn or perform.

The longing to be in Colorado — He invites me to trust Him, to stay present and open, to let my life in this place move to the beat of His heart.

I so want to respond to Him wholeheartedly.

If I could give physical expression to the state of my heart these days, I’d live my life facedown on the floor. Aching. Surrendering. Loving Him wild and weeping like no one’s watching.

And there’s something about simply, fiercely adoring Him from this spot on the floor of my imperfection and my unfulfilled desires and unanswered questions… that is becoming one of the absolute sweetest, most profound experiences of God’s heart that I’ve ever had.

Ever.

PS. I love y’all dearly and treasure your receiving of my words, of my heart. I can never thank you enough for the way you walk beside me here.

PPS. Linking up with the lovely Kelli at Unforced Rhythms.

This entry was posted in Attending to His Presence, Grief and Loss, Learning Authenticity, misc. walking with Jesus. Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to On Tension, Weakness, and Adoring Him from the Floor

  1. Barbie says:

    Beautiful friend, I can relate in so many ways. Recently, depression and anxiety has reared it’s ugly head and I may have to resort to medication to stabilize my mood. The writing? It’s been so hard. So very hard. I am thankful for sisters to walk alongside and who walk alongside of me in this season. Hugs!
    Barbie recently posted…Data Dumping WordsMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Barbie, your transparency blesses my heart. Thank you for being here, for giving me a glimpse into your life. Jesus, hold my friend’s heart tonight. May she deeply, intimately *know* your nearness, the tenderness of your heart toward her. Whisper peace and rest to the places where she needs it. May she have a real sense of being hidden in your heart tonight, Father.

      Love you, Barbie.

  2. You are so tender, my new friend. This is beautifully candid and tells the tale of many of my days: “peace in the midst of this deep unmet longing.” YES.

    Thank you for sharing this piece of yourself with us at Unforced Rhythms. It’s a pleasure to “meet” you.
    Kelli Woodford recently posted…Upon Returning {or Because the Magic is All Around Us}My Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Kelli, thanks for your presence here. Tender, raw, undone… yes. Living this way is painful and sweet and I don’t know any other way to be fully alive.

      And here’s to peace in the midst of the deep unmet longings — peace that only comes from trusting His heart when we can’t see His hand.

      Thanks for seeing me, friend.

  3. Jolene says:

    Wow! Thank you for this from the gut honesty. I think this place this season that you are in this adoring Him from the floor of all the imperfections and uncertainties is where He can take and make something beautiful of this season and your questions and uncertainties. Praying for you friend.
    Jolene recently posted…Five Minute Friday MessengerMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      YES. May He have every ounce of my heart and every corner of my soul in this season… trusting that, friend — that He will birth beauty here. Much love, Jolene.

  4. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing. I feel that our seasons of life and trusting God are very similar right now. Thank you for sharing.

  5. Lori Harris says:

    Me too! So…me too.
    I’m in a different, but very much the same season.
    Thank you for your honesty, friend.
    Lori Harris recently posted…On Being HumanMy Profile

  6. Dana, I wish there were more hours in the day to read all you write! I cruised around your site and was very intrigued with the post titles. I also ‘bang on things’ on our worship team. Mostly do vocals, but recently learned to play the cajon (Peruvian beat box) while leading our Women’s Retreat….totally fun!

    • danalynnb says:

      Jody, I love that you hung out in my space here for a while. You are welcome any time, fellow worship team banging-on-things person! :) Seriously though, thanks for hopping over and reading my words.

  7. Marvia says:

    I’m glad you shared these words. They do all go together! My fave phrase:: let me love you well…which speaks to me of trust. So yes, I will trust this invisible God for all I want and need.
    Marvia recently posted…No, I Will Not Tell the Truth SlantMy Profile

  8. Amber C. says:

    Goodness gracious, Dana… how I resonate with so many of your vulnerable confessions, your honest descriptions of yourself, your longings and inadequacies. You truly bless me with your heart poured out from the floor today. I read this and think, “I sure wish I could spend an afternoon with her.” Thank you for this. And for how your words stir a longing in me for more of that “fiercely adoring” Jesus that has lately not been there. Yes, friend. Just yes.
    Amber C. recently posted…The flood of remembrance: thoughts on Father’s dayMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Amber, this comment blessed me so much. SO much. Thank you for the sense of companionship in the longing to adore Him from the floor. Thank you for aching with me. And for wanting to spend an afternoon with me, to which my reply is YES, PLEASE! Gonna be anywhere near Kansas City any time soon?! :) Bless you, friend!

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