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"Inn Keeper," I see you!

2 Samuel 21:10  Rizpah daughter of Aiah took sackcloth and spread it out for herself on a rock. From the beginning of the harvest till the rain poured down from the heavens on the bodies, she did not let the birds touch them by day or the wild animals by night. 

I don’t remember anyone telling me as a mother I would never regain a good night’s rest.  I was warned about the early months, that made sense, occasional interruptions in adolescence were expected. Then the teenage years came rushing in like a leathered, barley in the mouth cowboy, gun drawn and “Howdy mam” on his lips.

Who is this child? Different, yet the same.  A little rougher around the edges, sweetness submerged under the dirt of what was once called communication.  These lovely new “cowboys” that have come to settle on our prairie are demanding.  More food, more money, more friends.                                                             No rest for the weary…                                               

They sleep in the light of day, and trail blaze all night long.

No rest for the weary…

Loud music fills their quarters, with barely a place to set their feet.

No rest for the weary…

Denim laid out disguising the carpet that once had residence.

No rest for the weary…

Oh, weary inn keeper, I see you! I am you. There is no law book that directs our steps on the best way to host our new companion. It is uncharted territory, saddle up, grab the reigns and hold on for the ride.

No, my children aren’t cowboys, we live in a suburb in Texas and honestly, the thought of dirt, muck and chores like a cowboy would be repulsive to each of them. But man, often it feels as if I am living with complete strangers.

I thought I knew you; don’t I know you? These years are rough, and can be exhausting, you long to go back to simpler times when lack of sleep was your biggest concern. But here we are saddled up, rope tying us to a beast we didn’t prepare for. Then I am reminded, I am not alone. I am not the first mother to take this ride, there are others who have gone before me.

In the story in 2 Samuel 21  Rizpah, a mother of two boys who have been taken from her took a sackcloth and spread it out for herself on a rock. From the beginning of the harvest till the rain poured down.

The harvest would have lasted about 6 months, and Rizpah sat vigil. Rizpah rested despite what was happening, Rizpah found peace and rest in the presence of the Lord. Her determination, her resilience gives me courage and hope that some days in the midst of the teenage years, rest and vigilant prayer are enough. Gods purpose for your children will be evident in time. For now, rest your weary head under the hope that God loved them first. Let His love be the rope that binds you and prepares you for the ride.

Until next time,  Courtney

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At the end of your rope?

Do you ever feel like you’re at the end of your rope? Me too! I’m not writing this in hopes that others will coddle me, or feel bad for me. This is for you, momma who is also “at the end of their rope” to know you are not alone!

As if a worldwide pandemic, a divisive election, and an arctic blast blowing through Texas were not enough, let’s add everyday life on top of that. A child lost in addiction, young adults trying to find their way, friends suffering, covid striking, ministry building, parents aging, and laundry overflowing. The list goes on and on, and I bet your list is equally as long and overwhelming. Sometimes it all feels like too much and I want to throw that rope I am hanging onto in the depths of the sea, wave my white flag, and scream, Lord, 

                            “YOU PICKED THE WRONG GIRL!” 

I am NOT strong enough, calm enough, or faithful enough.

Why does the “end of your rope” feel so lonely? Let me tell you, it’s because we are flooded with images, and updates of how “perfect” everyone’s lives are. Living in a fake reality that everyone else’s kids are perfect, yours are not. Everyone else has it all together, you do not. You, my friend, bought a one-way ticket on the “hot mess express” and the passengers are broken, overwhelmed, and exhausted.

It pains me when people assume I have it all together. Don’t let the makeup and fixed hair fool you. It’s possible I am the conductor of the Hot Mess express! Don’t let what you see on the outside or on social media feed be the reason you think you aren’t strong enough, good enough, or faithful enough to handle all that life throws your way. Sweet friend, at the end of your rope, you are not alone! We all have troubles and most days we are hanging on for dear life.

Here’s the deal…There is another end to that rope, which is held by a hand much stronger than ours. The hand of God. If you see strength in me, it’s God. If you see endurance in me, it’s God. If you assume based on outward appearance I have it all together… It’s God. I don’t want you to think for one second, I am capable of anything without GOD. He is my strength, my peace, my endurance. Though I may be hanging on the end, He is pulling me close to him and whispering, “I make no mistakes, be strong, I am here, I’ve got you. ” 

I am sitting in my Mom’s hospital room feeling pretty defeated yet “be strong, I will not leave you” is playing over and over like a broken record in my mind, which gives me comfort. I also write for comfort, often it’s my therapy for my heart. But this morning as I sat back on the little, not so comfortable couch, the Chaplain came over the intercom and shared the daily devotion. Low and behold, Deuteronomy 31:6, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

The minute I heard the Chaplain, I knew this was a post that needed to be shared. I knew that God was speaking directly to me and he is speaking to you. On the days I feel “at the end of my rope” this is a reminder that God is holding on tight and He won’t let go! So, pick up your chin, dust off your “not enough” attitude and face whatever life will throw your way knowing,  at the end of your rope, is HOPE! 

Until next time,

Courtney