At 27, I’m gonna crack–the type of losing it that looks a lot like a sad episode of 90210. I’m going to do all of the things that my anxiety and emotionally cluttered mind would never allow me to do in my early 20s. I’m going to do something illegal or blow all my savings on a sailboat or go kiss boys or whatever. Because I can feel it. The ache. The pain that doesn’t let go. And four years from now, I will have exhausted all of my attempts to be mature and faithful and joyful about it.

Me at 14 in a park after it closed. Using it as a foreshadowing of my rebel days that will be at 27. Also, my brother is just too dang cute <3

Everyone’s been sharing their Myers Briggs and Enneagrams in these posts lately, so here’s mine: INFP/4. This means that I feel all of the things all of the time. My friends have to process my emotions with me and carry quite a bit of my burdens. And just when things are getting too real, I joke “just wait ‘til I’m 27” and an uneasy laugh will make its way into the conversation. It’s a laugh, because the thought of me doing any of the above things is rather funny, but it’s uneasy, because the truth in the joke is that we all wonder how much longer we’re going to be able to continue this journey as healthy adults. At some point, we’re going to turn 27. Maybe some of us already have.

Reading through these Psalms, I think David understands the fragility of our hearts.

The human heart and mind are deep and complex.  
Psalm 64:6

Part of the pain of praying for me has been wondering if God actually feels, takes, and honors the suffering we all face from the human condition. And even though in my head I know He does, my deep and complex heart tells another story, a much louder story. And so it’s hard for me to talk to God, and even these days write to Him, because it’s too heartbreaking, too difficult, too much.

We all have different reasons for hesitating to pray, but if you’re with me and sometimes praying is just too painful, I encourage you to start by saying nothing. Sit in a place you feel comfortable, close your eyes, and feel. Feel all of the things. Scary, I know, but God wants them.

Some of us may think our feelings or feel our feelings. I’d like to think that God hears them.

Don’t let a lack of words keep you from prayer. God hears your silence.

It may be without words. It may be without amens. But it will be with selahs.

You hear us pray in words and silence.
Psalm 65:2

June 6, 2017