Empty My Hands

Our family is in an odd spot. We’re between normals, if “normal” ever actually exists for us.

Over the past six months, I kicked up my efforts both with Zaties, but also in career writing. My thinking was that I needed to get everything primed before September when both kids will be in school all day and I will need a full(er)-time job. The combination of writing and crafting seemed a natural solution. But then our latest adventure happened upon us and all those plans were split mid-journey.

Zach’s cast is scheduled to come off in two weeks. Two weeks!! Fourteen days. A deliciously short time. And then we start the next phase of this adventure: recovery and physical therapy. I have no idea what my days will look like. As it is now, I’m impatient to get this over with, but also conscious of never wanting to wish my days away.

I want to know what our future holds so that I can be prepared, but I don’t want to, as John Lennon would conclude, miss my life for the sake of making other plans.

I don’t want to be so busy that I can’t see the greatest opportunities right before me.

My wise and loving husband accurately pointed out last night that I often just want someone to tell me what to do. If someone tells me which direction to go, I run full-force ahead, convinced of my mission. But when things are undefined, I go a little nuts. I take on too much for fear of missing the right one.

Waiting upon the Lord has never come easily for me.

When I’m not where I need to be or sure exactly where I should be, I vacillate between despondent apathy and stern determination to be better. Grace doesn’t enter the equation.

But it should.

This week I am begging for grace and the courage to accept it. I am waiting for the Holy Spirit to grant me patience. Whatever I’ve started that I shouldn’t have, whatever I’ve grabbed that I need to let go, I am trying desperately to open my hands that they may be emptied of rubbish and filled with what is better.

My heart is just a prisoner of war,
a slave to what it wants and what I’m fighting for.

So won’t You empty my hands?
Fill up my heart,
Capture my mind with You.

“Empty My Hands” by Tenth Avenue North

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