Why I Believe

Let me preface this by saying that I sincerely hope some day my children get to read this.  I want them to know as much about me as they possibly can, because I have no promise of tomorrow.  But even if we get to watch each other grow old and wrinkly, I still want this in writing.

The past two weeks have been...exhausting.  I have been dealing with some personal stuff, and every night I go to bed with a jam-packed mind.  Even worse, I have been having creepily vivid dreams.  The type where you wake up feeling tired just from all the anxiety in the dream itself.  Last night's dream starred either Drew Barrymore or Rashida Jones.  I swear one moment it was Drew and then I'd turn my head and it was Rashida.  Does that ever happen to you?

Anywho, today I was driving home from running errands (which may or may not have involved trying on a pair of leopard print jeans) when a song out of nowhere got stuck in my head.  It wasn't on the radio, and I honestly can't remember the last time I heard it on my iPod.  

The chorus goes like this:

I was carried to the table
Seated where I don’t belong
Carried to the table
Swept away by His love
And I don’t see my brokenness anymore
When I’m seated at the table of the Lord
I’m carried to the table
The table of the Lord

When I got home, I was still singing it.  In fact, I haven't really stopped humming it still.  Then after we put the kids down for the night, I had a short chat with Justin.

Me: I know the whole "Footprints in the Sand" thing is super cheesy, but it is still cool to think about.  

J:  Yeah.  

Me: I mean, just when you think you have nothing left, God is there to carry you the rest of the way.  You don't have to struggle, you just have to let him do his thing.

J: Yeah.

I promise you, that is how it went.  Real stimulating conversation, right?

And that, my compadres, is why I believe.  Because when I am beaten down and exhausted, when I have nothing left to give.  When I let myself down.  When friends let me down. When bitter words stab me in the heart, and then replay in my head over and over again.  When the things I do are no longer good enough.  When I can't find the words to describe how I feel.  When I don't know how to fix it all.

God is there to pick me up and take me to the table- where peace and rest exist.  There is nothing like peace of the soul.  Quiet, calm, and healing.

Simple.  And not the only reason I believe, but that's a pretty good start.

So until all of my problems are solved and I can lean on my own understanding, I will just keep humming the final lines of this simple song:

You carried me, my God

You carried me.