Yesterday I woke up and literally could barely self-talk my way into going to church. I heard every pity party excuse in the book and ultimately fought against it and made my way to EvFree - my home - where I sat alone. I refused to listen to the defeat I felt closing in, or allow the sense of self-conscious to overcome. I worshipped; I praised God for sending His son to clothe me in worthiness that I was freed to walk in the newness of life. As the service came to a close, we sang “What a beautiful Name it is” and I was transported to Rwanda (as I always am in the midst of that song) where I was able to almost tangibly feel William and the other campers surrounding us as we danced for Jesus. It made me so excited for heaven. The tears were close. I was grateful. I am grateful.
I left church and stopped at my friend Lauren’s to drop off some stuff for an upcoming baby shower we’re throwing this weekend and then headed for home. I listened to some worship music and then switched to a podcast feeling my heart yearn for a sense of belonging. I pulled into the garage, listening to Truth, and opened Instagram to see the seemingly endless barrage of happy families. Please hear me when I say - I am happy for them. I love seeing Anna dress up Adelynn in her fancy little dress and Jeremiah looks darn cute in mustard yellow pants with a vest. I loved Charlee’s pigtails with bows and Haddon makes a charming little bunny. I love their celebration, their joy, their together. I love that they are family and that they are building traditions. I also feel so totally outside and void of any of my own. Easter is a holiday that feels emptier and harder than others - it is one of the days on which I feel more obviously and painfully alone.
I am sure I sound like a broken record - but this is my blog, so I can say whatever I want to in this space I suppose. I have no doubt that I would have been welcome in many places or spaces. I could have made any number of calls and they would have set an extra plate at their table with joy and enthusiasm and so much generosity. A few years ago I did that…I reached out to my friend Connie Hutchinson and she graciously told me her Easter wasn’t the one I should choose. I shared that story with my friend Robyn and she talked to her mama and I ended up spending my afternoon with the Smith family. It was delightful. Last year I spend Easter with my friend Carrie and her clan at her parents house. We watched as the kids opened entirely too many eggs and were thrilled beyond with their loot. This year, I didn’t have it in me to ask for an invitation. Is it fair to sometimes not want to have to ask? I know people aren’t mind readers and they don’t know your needs if you don’t share them. But is it really a surprise to anyone that I’m still single? Must I announce that I don’t have a family of my own or a place to spend the holiday? There is something so utterly emptying about that. About all of this.
I guess all that is to say I want to be seen and invited and included - that is probably what we all want on some level. And yet that is the very thing we are celebrating on Easter. Because He died, because He chose to be the sacrifice and take the punishment upon Himself, WE ARE WELCOME. If we say yes to Jesus, we are part of the family and we are invited - wholly, fully, and forevermore. So this is my prayer - that I will have eyes to see and ears to hear the person who needs or wants an invitation and I will always set at least one extra plate - with joy and enthusiasm and so much generosity. That soon God will allow me the opportunity to be a person who celebrates well and lives with so much more than merely obedience.
What a POWERFUL name it is, the name of Jesus.
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