This post is somewhat of a love letter to all people currently in my life.
I recently got to witness one of the most real, sweet, quick moments I’ve witnessed in a long time. I was around a couple of moms and one of them was just struggling. Struggling because her kid is a human. And humans are messy, sinful beings. Her kid was demonstrating sin and it was bumming her out. The other mom friend saw through the put-on smile and brush-it-off face, gave her a hug and said something to the effect of, “It’s hard. But you’re a good mom.”
She was able to look at her friend and let her know it was okay to be sad and hurt and feeling feels that were uncomfortable in a public place. She didn’t condemn, correct, or even laugh at the kid’s behavior. She comforted her friend.
I left that interaction (which, by the way, I was basically the creepy bystander eavesdropping on the whole thing…) thinking over and over again, “Man. That’s what we all want. Refuge from the mess. A safe, secure place to just be who we are.”
I think we are all in this space of seeking refuge. (Which is also appropriate in my life because that’s my church’s website, hhhaaaayyy)
We all want space where we can be – not condemned, corrected, or even joined in with the false cover of laughing away hurts and hard things.
In that moment, it was as if a hug from one friend to another let her be more human. It allowed her to feel broken, yet hopeful that she wasn’t alone.
I’m so thankful that I exist in a context of refuge seekers. Of people that allow for hard conversations, hurt hearts, and work with one another to see light pour into the darkness. I honestly don’t know how I did it for so long without them.
All I know is that we can’t seek refuge alone. Yes, our ultimate refuge is in Christ. And yes, He alone has the ability and right to satisfy.
But we still need each other. We need to lock arms and plummet head first into the heaviness of life, scratching and clawing for a bit of refuge in the pit together.
I’m tired of the mask of “Okay” and “Fine.” I’m tired of thinking that no one will ever understand, or, once they do understand they’ll want nothing to do with me.
Cause guess what, that’s exactly what the enemy wants. He wants us isolated. He wants us to believe the lie that we are incapable of love and goodness and redemption.
But once we bring people in – once we tell satan to suck it, and bring our fellow beautiful, messy, sinful, redeemed people in – the enemy has to leave. And we find refuge. We find it together.
So let’s get together a put a white-knuckle grip around one another, knowing that hard stuff is okay, unwilling to let go of each other. Let’s stop dealing with things alone. Let’s have tough conversations. Let’s listen well to those that are hurting. Let’s be just as good at grieving as we are at celebrating.
And then, let’s celebrate that the King and Mighty Refuge of our souls has indeed loved sinners such as us.