I want to tell you something I have not learned how to say cleanly.
Not because I was hiding. Though I was.
Not because I was ashamed. Though sometimes I was that too.
Mostly because every version I tried sounded false.
He steps into the garden, a place that should feel familiar. Tonight it does not comfort Him. His chest tightens. He tells the disciples to stay and watch, but even as He speaks, He can see it, the heaviness in their eyes, the confusion. They don’t understand. How could they? He barely has the words for it Himself.
I learned some months back that sometimes it is okay to slow down and to not only acknowledge but also grieve the reality that we may not always experience the gift of community as fully as we long to. I have also learned this truth: no earthly relationship was ever meant to carry the weight of all our needs and satisfy them. Only Jesus can and He alone! Though this truth sometimes makes it feel it like it is only the likes of us that have been deprived of so much, uncertain of whether that’s true or not or if it’s even a helpful thought. I am certain of this; God will always find ways to refresh our souls and renew our strength. I do not always know how He will do it, but I have seen Him do it and I trust that He will continue in His faithfulness.
I started praying. I prayed earnestly that God would help me get my thoughts off this tangent because there was no way my mind was going to focus on reading my Bible that morning with this artwork lying next to me.