Just a couple days ago, I made a confession. About my anxiety level. And about how I’ve been struggling to get better about coping and understanding God’s control in my life.
Yesterday, Kate came over. My little kindred spirit in all things art and anxiety. She was arranging flowers for me for my niece, Becca’s, bridal luncheon this morning.
In the foreground, her beautiful flowers. In the background, my dear Kate.
While she arranged, we talked about our stress. And our introverted/ extroverted tendencies. We talked about our ability to crush a human we love and adore because we’re ridiculously stressed out. And how, upon realizing our messiness, we are flattened out and humbled. In a good but embarrassing kind of way.
After our flower arranging / therapy session, we both felt better. Stronger. Able to take on the world and become the people we know we need to be. Ready to tackle our schedules, our storms and smile sweetly and bravely through it all.
But then night fell … and so did we.
I managed to mess up once again. And I found out this morning via email … so did Kate.
With her confession, I cried. Not so much for our mutual failures but for how our continued attempts and weakness leave us in a messy place – where we both reach out to God.
I wrote her this:
It is humbling to be me. (I’m crying. Not a good sign so early in the morning.) But me is all God and I have to work with … so here goes another day of praying, walking, trying and asking for forgiveness along the way.
I love you dearly and am so grateful for you.
Maybe your life is messy like ours. But there is an upside to continual trying (and crying) … and it is found in confession to an enormously loving God.
And in finding a soul companion, for encouragement along the way.