I was sitting in the, um, restroom. I was giving my discouraged, blah self a pep talk of sorts, completely unrelated to my location, and I realized how often my life feels like a potential blog post. Potential but not actual, because my life tends to feel like the beginning of a blog post, not the pretty, resolved ending of a blog post.
Today, my pep talk sounded something like this:
“I’ve been looking forward to baking these pretty cookies all week. I planned and prepared. I set aside the time. Why am I not enjoying the process? I mean, James said, ‘Count it all joy, my brothers, when you face trials …’ I don’t even feel joy about baking cookies. COOKIES. PRETTY cookies.
“OK. This probably has to do with my attitude. I was doing fine until something didn’t go as planned. And then Huxtable jumped on the counter and clawed at my cookie dough. And then I was angry and yelled at my husband.
“I know! I need to list off all the things I’m thankful for in this situation, and then I’ll have joy like songbirds in my heart, and I’ll love baking these cookies.
“I’m thankful for Huxtable. I’m thankful I bought an extra package of cookie mix. I’m thankful I’m using cookie mix and not an elaborate, taxing scratch recipe. I’m thankful for my husband.
“That should do it.
“That didn’t work.
“Oh! I know the REAL lesson. I didn’t include the Lord in all of this. I bet I’ll feel better once I include Him and stop thinking about myself so much.
“Something still isn’t working.”
Now I’m writing this blog post. Why am I writing this? Partly because I’m procrastinating on those cookies. Mostly because I think it’s important to be transparent.
My life is far from a great blog post. My attitude is far from joyful and grateful at many given moments. I don’t always turn to the Lord. I don’t always feel refreshed when I do.
But I still have hope.
I have hope because God promised that He will finish the good work He started in me. I have hope because I know that this season of blahness isn’t because God put me on a shelf while He took a sabbatical. He’s working through the blah, even using it.
I have hope because my story isn’t just a life that needs to look pretty and tidy and put together and perfect so that I have all the right external proof that I am a child of God. My story is a part of HIS story. I know how His story ends, and that’s way better than any blog post about my life.