Hardest. Season. Ever.
Life’s hard right now.
This summer, Lord willing, we’re welcoming our second kiddo in late July. I’m also transitioning into another position at work. I’m part of leadership development program that is in it’s crunch hour for a major project. Blah, blah, blah…
That’s usually how I want to answer people when they ask tilting their head with a kind smile, “How are you doing?”
I’m frustrated.
I’m in a season where I’m trying to do damage control. I feel like I’m standing with rubble all around me asking, “How did this happen?!”
It was about a week ago that I crawled through the front door.
Up to that point, our family walked through two separate conferences. The first one our family participated in, and while the conference itself was great, the people were good, it was in Austin, TX (so the food was good), Kimberly and I felt disconnected at the end of it.
We had two days to recoup, catch our breath, and then I left for another week long conference. It’s part of a leadership development program that I’m blessed to be a part of for work. The timing just stunk.
Kimberly is “many weeks pregnant,” we figure it out exactly and then somehow forget. Don’t worry! We put the due date in our Google Calendar (with an email reminder a week before).
So, being pregnant is one thing (so I’m told), but it’s also another when you’re trying to parent a toddler. Mom’s are already grade-A certified #beastmode in my book. I think people should stop and line up for moms when they walk in somewhere. They’re incredible.
Kimberly leans into the Lord as much as she can that week, basically operating as a single parent, and I’m easily putting in 12–13 hour days at the conference. We’re both grinding it out, pleading with Jesus for strength moment-by-moment, and confessing our sin often. Smile.
It’s hard to sit on the other side of the phone and hear your spouse struggling for energy to do what they’ve got to, not just for one more evening, but a few more days.
I feel so powerless in those moments, but I think it’s part of me running up to the reality of my limitations.
My superpowers as a husband and father are pretty weak, so it forces me to pray, pray, and pray some more. This is helpful because in realizing that I can’t, I know that God can. In fact, God has already shown his care, grace, and power through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. So I take a deep breath and keep trusting him. He’s the Hero, I’m not. That brings rest.
A few days before we’re to be reunited, Kimberly and I both come down with a cold. We’re in separate places! For a second that’s kind of cute, right? “Awww! Ya’ll are like one flesh, so she got sick and you got sick! Sweeeeeeeeeet.”
We are, but… barf.
Anyone else hate being sick? I can’t stand it. I have the perseverance of a 3-year-old. I’m growing, I’m growing.
That’s where we’re at when I crawl through the front door a week ago. Both Kimberly and I are depleted. By God’s grace, Clara, our daughter, is doing great, but matching her energy to tackle the day is hard.
I literally Googled “How to get better when sick with toddler.” #reallife
I didn’t expect any groundbreaking wisdom… but, hey, I’m open to it!
Other things compounded onto these over the last week, when a few evenings ago I looked at Kimberly and said, “I think this is the hardest season we’ve ever gone through.”
And who knows, maybe it is.
To be honest, I don’t want to even think about where I would be without the time I’ve had in the morning to pray and read God’s Word. In a world of ever changing circumstances, it points me back again and again to Christ. The only anchor and sure thing I have in this world.
I’ve been reading through Romans and I came across this passage one morning. The 8th chapter of Romans is fantastic, but these few verses really spoke to me.
[18] For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. [19] For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. [20] For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope [21] that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. [22] For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. [23] And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. [24] For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? [25] But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. (Romans 8:18–25 ESV)
Sometimes I click the audio version of the Bible to hear certain texts, because while I can read them, I want my heart to hear it as many ways as it can.
In my weakness, still in the midst of this difficult season, I cling to the eternal truth (not wishful thinking) that my sufferings aren’t worth comparing to the glory that is to be revealed to believers in Christ.
Oh, baby! Do you hear this, Soul?! Jesus has Good News for us today. Let’s lean in.
I love the verses that follow that powerful truth, because they talk about this inward groaning. Inward groaning is great description of what we’ve felt over these past few weeks. It says that creation experiences this, but also all believers in Christ.
The next verses expound powerfully on this, and then lead into the below:
“And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified”
(Rom. 8:30).
That inward groaning that God has put into my heart by grace through faith in Jesus is going to be satisfied. The sufferings, however big or small, won’t compare to the glory that will be revealed to me one day. In Rom. 8:30, God says a lot, but he reminds you and me again that he doesn’t start anything he won’t finish. So, the good work he’s started in me, Kimberly, and our family, he’s going to finish. And it’s going to be beautiful.
So, I can weep, wrestle, question, struggle, and bleed as I walk through this season, and others to come, but what is promised me now, and in eternity, is greater than the worst of everything I’ve experienced together.
I might be riding the struggle bus, but I know where we’re going.
