about hope and band aids that only cover but don’t heal and the beauty that remains
A couple years ago there was this article circulating amongst the social media fodder about the dangerous use of Instagram and Facebook to make one’s life look unreasonably beautiful and perfect.
And (way back then) I wrote a post about how I think it’s perfectly fine and completely fitting to share your favorite pretty moments and your kids dressed in plaid if you feel like it.
I think that’s how I’ve been feeling again lately with posts and updates and all that jazz.
There’s just so much and so much and piles on top of piles (and no, the extra so much is not a typo) of less than stellar moments and fresh heartache and scabbed over heartache and surprises and mundane non-surprises and sorrow and grief flowing in and out of our home and our hearts that I could write on and on about it for months.
But there are days I don’t feel like doing that.
(And days when I do feel like doing that but I know that I simply must not do that.)
Sometimes the looking for and the sharing of The Good and The Beautiful is the exact and the divinely prescribed kind of healing I need that day.
And sometimes the looking for and the recording of The Sweet and The Lovely is the only way I can breathe for that afternoon.
And sometimes it’s a way to disguise my not coping and my not breathing.
You know – it’s all that. The mix and the jumble.
Anne Frank wrote in her famous journal –
I don’t think of all the misery,
but of all the beauty that remains.
I want you to know – this life is heavy and this road is long and this season is dark and I still cry and my children still mourn.
And I want you to know – I plan fun field trips and our friends from far away states come visit and we watch silly movies and we play Monopoly and we bake scones and we rearrange rooms.
Our family is all both sad and still alive.
We are broken and we are laughing.
(I think it’s true that you can be both – simultaneously.)
Sometimes the stack of fun times and spontaneous trips and hikes through the woods and lake days serve as a big fat band-aid to cover up the nasty wound we are nursing.
And sometimes the bike ride and the kayak paddling and the mountain driving are just good times that we share together.
Some days – they are both.
It’s coping, I guess.
And it’s thriving in captivity. (I hope.)
Elisabeth Elliot, the inspiring woman for whom our sweet Mosely Elliot is named, said,
One reason we are so harried and hurried is that we make yesterday and tomorrow our business,
when all that legitimately concerns us is today.
I’ve never found it an easy calling to live in the today.
I love writing a list and making a plan almost as much as I do living out that plan.
But, I am changing.
It seems, for me – for now – surviving (and hopefully, thriving) – is only happening when I enjoy the today. When I look into my children’s eyes and really listen to the fifth retelling of how Otto caught the biggest toad of his life – Stinky Britches – and of how that toad is living in this creepy dungeon home the kids have crafted for old Mr. Stinky Britches and his half a dozen other toad companions. (Seriously -that dungeon is like a legitimate horror film.)
My hope is not in securing a safe and reliable future for my little birds within my nest here. It is not found in promises I can make to them about the tomorrows they will face and be forced to endure.
My hope is in a Jesus who says
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.
Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are you not much more valuable than they?
Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
And why do you worry about clothes?
See how the flowers of the field grow.
They do not labor or spin.
Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.
If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?
So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’
For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Each day has enough trouble of its own.
15 Comments
judy kay
I’ve found myself picking up my camera so much more often – and intentionally – in this new season of our lives for this very reason. It’s hard. And there’s much to grieve but it feels too soon for that, and there is sweetness and beauty to be stored up too.
The mix and the jumble. Exactly that.
I really love that Elizabeth Elliot quote. She’s right. We pile on such heavy-laden burdens when we concern ourselves with tomorrow before the grace for tomorrow has been given.
laceykeigley
Elisabeth Elliot. She’s so right about so much.
And goodness ….. she knew suffering, so her words resonate.
Sarah
Reminded me of this poem:
Thy will be done. I yield up everything.
‘The life is more than meat’ — then more than health;
‘The body more than raiment’ — then more than wealth;
The hairs I made not, thou art numbering.
Thou art my life–I the brook, thou the spring.
Because thine eyes are open, I can see;
Because thou art thyself, ’tis therefore I am me.
(George MacDonald; from Diary of an Old Soul)
laceykeigley
Lovely.
Nikkie
I needed this in a huge way today, Lacey. Thank you.
laceykeigley
I’m still always so pleasantly surprised when I see your name pop up – thank you for still reading and it’s my honor that my words speak to you in any way.
Sara
So much Truth in this post. So much of real life on this dying earth.
All this Hard and heartache is blessed by the faith through which we sing:
How beautiful Heaven must be!
And I am so grateful to know your tears-all our tears-will be wiped away someday.
“Your Heavenly Father knows..”
Why can’t I remember that?
It surely glorifies His Name to see you surviving-even thriving-by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Much love and many prayers
laceykeigley
There’s this song I have been loving lately. I think it’s called “O Lord” by Lauren something.
I love the lines:
Oh, O’Lord O’Lord You hear my cry
Your love is lifting me above all the lies
No matter what I face this I know in time
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right
You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right
Mandi Buckner
Oh Yes! I love this and agree! I love you! The Lord is carrying you through it all one day at a time my soul sister. That’s how I live too.
laceykeigley
One day at a time.
Chelsea
❤️
judy kay
So much truth and goodness and beauty in these words right here, Lacey.
laceykeigley
Thank you!
Pat Meeks
Thank you, I needed to read this today! You are wonderful person.
laceykeigley
You are very kind – much thanks.