Grace Abounds In Deepest Waters

Let’s just have an honest conversation for a minute.

I am having a hard time keeping the end in mind — to see past the present. I can’t even imagine life being easier or better. And, by being better, I mean enjoying having kids.

Was that too honest of a statement? Did I just scare you away?

Please tell me that other people struggle with enjoying the role of mother. The role of parenting doesn’t fit in my comfort zone or my place of control. My oldest is in a phase that is entirely frustrating. Disrespect runs rampant. There is a fight between us around every. single. corner. The simplest instruction by me is welcomed with a fist to the face (not literally). “Go back to sleep, Sweets. It’s the middle of the night [a.k.a 5:30 a.m.].” Screams fill the empty space of the morning. I have no clue what’s going on.

I fear that I will lose her.

I fear that she will always be like this.

I fear that I will always be like this.

I am weary.

I am weak.

I don’t like who I am. I don’t like who she is at this phase. Deep waters.

I said it. It’s a phase. I call it that, yet cannot see beyond it.

Gone are the days of midnight feedings. Gone are the days of potty training. There is phase to it all. In these moments where joy lacks, my only refuge is God.

These moments are pivotal. Which way will I turn? Turn away or turn towards God. Give me a mantle of praise instead of mourning. Anoint me with the oil of joy and gladness. In my despair, I turned my eyes to Psalm 142.

I cry aloud with my voice to the Lord; I make supplication with my voice to the Lord. 
I pour out my complaint before Him; I declare my trouble before Him. 
When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, You knew my path. 
In the way where I walk they have hidden a trap for me. 
Look to the right and see; for there is no one who regards me; 
There is no escape for me; no one cares for my soul.

I cried out to You, “O Lord,” I said, “You are my refuge, My portion in the land of the living.”
Give heed to my cry, for I am brought very low; 
Deliver me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me.
Bring my soul out of prison, so that I may give thanks to Your name; 
The righteous will surround me, for You will deal bountifully with me.

I felt my heart bleed these words and echoed what David cried. I am crying out. I am asking. I poured out my complaints. For I am in trouble. Yet in the moments when I am completely overwhelmed — He knows my path. He sees the hidden traps laid (by my sweet little love). He sees the persecution. He sees that I feel like there is no escape.

YET He is my refuge — my portion. I love the language used here. He is my portion — He is enough. My safe place will be found in Him even in the middle of what feels like prison. For where circumstances are overwhelming, He is stronger.

Now, before any of you blast me, I completely realize that I speak with great drama here. But if I am perfectly honest with you, life is about surviving. I feel like I have been figuring out how to survive each phase. And as dramatic as I can be, I know my children are not a prison. I know they are not prosecutors. Speaking in metaphors here, people. I have a feeling that others feel this way and I want you to hear that God is your refuge and your portion. He is enough for today.

When she fights. He is enough.

When she refuses. He is enough.

When I am lost. He is enough.

When I have no answers. He is enough.

I can’t help but draw to mind the words penned in the song “Oceans” by Hillsong. His grace abounds in deepest waters. Doesn’t that echo so beautifully David’s words? In the deepest waters, He is enough. When you feel like drowning is on the brink, His grace abounds. He is your portion.

What does your soul cry out about? Are you drawing? Do you believe He is enough?