Yesterday I posted a pretty raw picture of my last year.

By the time I usually post something it’s when I have already been working, dealing, living through something for a while.

It’s like when you scraped your knee as a kid, but the scab is so itchy you scratch it off and the skin underneath is pale pink, the beginning of a scar but still very thin- still very sensitive.

So, not quite healed. Not quite ok. Exposed, but getting better.

That’s where I am.

And it was scary to reveal that. Because I don’t want people to judge me. Because it’s not pretty or comfortable. Because worse than judgment is pity. Because I should have been stronger.

While my hope still is a bit
Blurry, my God has been amazing.

Our God is amazing.

My husband put it so well- he explained that this past year a lot has happened, way more than we could have ever anticipated, and much of it was hard and harsh, the wind whipping and slapping us down. And then I got all crazy and put myself out there and started pursuing ministry again. And when you’re already parched and looking for water and you place yourself out in the middle of a desert a lot of times you search for a while. It’s hot. And I’m thirsty. And I can’t find my way.

My own desert.

But suddenly I find shade. And I sit under it. And I allow myself
To lean in, and be tired and be emptied. And admit that it’s much harder, and going to be a much longer walk than I expected.

That’s. Where. I. Am.

But I know that the burning I have in my heart is for God- calling to me and telling me that I have made it this far, to keep going, and hope will flow over me like the living water only He can provide. I thirst for him. And I am so glad I kept walking.

I may be in desert. But I’m not alone.

We may be in the desert. But. We. Are. Not. Alone.

Keep walking.