be my understanding.

This hasn’t been my favorite year in the world.

It hasn’t been the worst, but it definitely has not been the best.

I always refer to things in life as seasons, because Christians tend to do that a la Ecclesiastes 3 (for everything there is a season…)

But honestly? This isn’t a season. This is my life.

And it hasn’t been all that great lately.  

Things could be worse, I know. But they could be a heck of a lot better.

And I’m trying. I feel like I’m doing everything right, everything I’m supposed to. At least I’m trying to.

And yet, things keep spiraling down.

Every time a glimmer of hope breaks through, something shatters it.

Callous, hateful words slung at me in the most nonchalant way. Doubts and fears perpetuated by said words.

Thoughtfulness and kindness going ignored.

Physical pain forcing me bedridden. Medicine side effects driving me crazy. (Stupid prednisone…)

Job applications unanswered. I’m finding jobs I qualify for but lack the experience to get because I freaking pigeon-holed myself.

Article or post ideas fly through my brain,  but I can’t get my hands to type the words that make them.

Fear. apathy. loneliness. exhaustion. they all come crashing in waves, one on top of the other until I’m gasping for air. It’s so much. And yet, I don’t feel like it’s enough. Nothing I do is enough for anyone right now. 

I have a desire to do things, ideas and thoughts buzzing in my head. Then I wake up, and all my aspirations for the day get swallowed by fear or exhaustion or worry or mindlessness.

I can’t get my brain to quit spiraling. No matter the good things, all I can focus on are the bad.

And I’m just exhausted from it, y’all.

I would’ve thought I’d had it all together by now. I’m 25, with a college degree. I have no idea what I want, or what I need, or what to do next. I want, need, to have this life thing figured out already so I can quit second-guessing myself.

I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how I got to this point in my life with nothing to show for it. I don’t understand why this year happened this way, no matter how much I’ve tried to change it.

I write these things here because I don’t know how to say them out loud, let alone know who I’d say them to. I’d love to be this vulnerable to a person(or people) but I don’t know who to do that with anymore. I go to the same ones every time, and have for years, but I don’t want to keep throwing my junk at them and them alone.

People then comment on these things saying they love me, or are here, or are praying, all that jazz… I love those words and am thankful, but I’m sick of people just saying it.I need people to show it.It’s easy to type those words hollowly then log off.  Show me, please. Because words are failing me right now. Words of affection are my love language, but I need people actually living those words out right now.


Tonight I was a mess lighting my advent candles. I felt low and sad and shaky. Shaky is not what you want when you’re holding a lighter to a candle, by the way.

I was singing one of my favorite songs from youth group days, a song that sung me to sleep the night before while dog sitting at my aunt’s.  It just popped into my head out of nowhere.

I lit the candles and sang quietly, tearfully, praying that maybe God could light something in me again. A spark, a flicker, something to light my way and guide me through this waiting, in-between mess I’m in.  I sat in silence watching the light flicker, the rest of the room dark. I sat watching it for awhile, trying to figure out what exactly to pray or do next.

A thought popped into my head, as it always does in these quiet, holy moments.

I do not understand. Be my understanding. 

I don’t know if I get what this means. Heck, I don’t know if that makes any sense. But it’s what I heard in the quiet, so I’m taking hold.

I also know this: I don’t understand life right now, or why I’m in this place, or where to go and what to do next.

But I know Jesus. And I know He understands. And I know He understands me. Click To Tweet

He understands life because he lived it. He understands me because He walked through these things too, so He could love me better.

picture from shauna niequist

I don’t understand any of this right now, but you do, Jesus. Be my understanding. Be the only understanding I cling to in this world of chaos and unknown and in-between.

Be my understanding. When I can’t understand anything else, let me understand who you are. Help me understand.

help me understand what you say about me, even when others (or I myself) try to discount those truths.

help me understand that your ways are higher than mine when my ways are clouding my vision.

help me understand your guidance as you lead me, for it doesn’t look like my idea of guidance.

help me cast out fear and doubts, for you know the gifts and talents you’ve bestowed upon me better than I do.

help me depend on you for strength and healing, when physical pain overtakes me and my mental health spirals inward.

help me to believe truth over the lies my brain tells me every single day.

help me find a spark to carry me out of this darkness. Help me understand that you ARE the light that carries me through, and you will help me find the light again.

And when I can’t understand any of the above, remind me that you are my understanding. Be what I understand when I can’t understand this world or my life in it. 

This verse is one I cling to in the non-understanding. I want to understand, I want to know what You’re doing Lord. More than anything else. But I cling to the thought that You will make it all make sense someday.

Even if someday isn't when I want it to be (like today), I want to cling to the hope of someday. I have to. Click To Tweet

If Jesus and his words are all I understand right now, that’s enough. Even though not understanding the rest is freaking hard. Jesus and his understanding have to be enough.

On Christ the solid rock I stand. Even if I'm shaking on it. Click To Tweet


I know I said this didn’t feel like a season, but this song still really reflects a lot of my fighting/struggle right now.

“Though my waiting prolongs even greater/ your promise for me like a seed

I believe that my season will come.”



All of Audrey’s songs bring comfort in my sorrowfulness, but this one gutted me.

“How long, how long until I’m home?
I’m so tired, so tired of running
How long until You come for me?”

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