When you're waiting for an answer

A word from the bathroom floor

Last weekend, a pile of sad things converged at once – the whole “when it rains, it pours” adage is sometimes true – and I had a minor emotional collapse, meaning I cried off and on for three days. You know what I mean, right? When there’s a pressure, like a shaken bottle, and the fizz needs decompressing, needs me to twist the cap off of where all that’s stored, just enough. I’d get distracted by pouring almond milk on my cereal or folding a load of wash, and suddenly the pressure was there again, asking to be freed.

For one, I had a raging cold, and my head and sinuses throbbed. It was also the first week of a new rotation between my ex and I, where my son would be staying for longer stretches at each house. He was not at mine, and I was missing him terribly. I know some of you are in the season where you’d pay large sums of money for a break from your children, but that stage is a memory for me. With my big girl away at college, it’s extra hard for me to be apart from my high schooler for extended time.

My mama-heart feels like a dropped vase that I keep trying to glue together and fill with water. It keeps leaking.

But the weekend kicker was the anticipation of an email that would contain an answer, something important. It was a yes or a no. And the waiting proved to be the straw that left me on the bathroom floor, weeping yet again. My spirit felt shredded and I feigned faith, “God, I don’t even need the email. You can just tell me the answer. Please, just tell me.” In a rare moment of hearing him respond, a firm yet calm reverberation in my conscience, he said, “It doesn’t matter.” Dejected, I ramped up, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! Why doesn’t it matter?” Then as clear as a bell, “Because I’m with you either way.”

It was so simple, and agonizing, which is always the telltale sign it’s really the voice of something outside myself. I would tell me exactly what I wanted to hear, and this wasn’t it. The conversation came to a rapid close as I heard, “Don’t even open your email until you can agree with me that it does…not…matter.” Ugh. Rude.

The whisper in my spirit was not angry or even disappointed. It was directive and loving. It was a weighted blanket for my mental and emotional health, which was sketchy at best. I felt the kindness of his words land. Though God wasn’t willing to play by my rules and cut the corner on some larger lesson, it felt good to have a job.

I am good at jobs. I got up off the floor and sat on the edge of the tub. Agree, align, believe. I’ll get there. I closed my eyes and sat there sniffling, gathering myself.

To be clear, I’ve covered enough of this faith-journey to know certain things are true. The things that always matter are my story, my feelings, my trauma, my relationships, and my transformation as a human. I know God wasn’t spiritually bypassing any of these things. What he was implying, however, was that ultimately, an unfavorable or even terrifying circumstance wasn’t going to redefine my unshakeable belovedness. One word in an email had no power to alter his tender care for me. In fact, nothing is that powerful.

The blanket of his love is weightier than any other burden.

I have tested this a few times now during some significant hits. When I was younger, I thought there was nothing worse than my husband divorcing me. He talked about it often, so I had to process the possibility a long time ago. Now, two years post-divorce, I’ve lived it: God’s love and care for me didn’t even falter. In fact, it was more pronounced and sustaining than ever. In March, I received a breast cancer diagnosis. That was and still is a scary one, for sure. But it couldn’t come close to overriding God’s intimate nearness through the hardest parts. And there were very some hard parts.  

I don’t know what answers you’re waiting for, but I’m guessing a lot rides on them. It does matter what happens, and the outcomes are critically important.

But what’s also true is that the answers have no bearing on how beloved you are. In that sense, the answers do not matter because you matter infinitely more.

God will not leave you alone when you finally see how the cards fall, when you get the phone call or the email. He is near, and he is prepared to meet you in those pivotal milliseconds.

It may take a minute, but it’s worth the effort to process your problem before you know the solution. Come rain or shine, he’s going to love you like no one’s loved you. Agree, align, believe. You’ll get there.    

make this.

White Chicken Chili

This chili is my go-to for something cozy on Halloween night, for having company over, or for any fall weeknight when I only have a little time (or little energy) to cook. I can throw it together in less than 20 minutes, and then set out a toppings bar for people to add their own fixings. This is not a very spicy chili. If any, the heat comes from the white pepper and the diced green chiles. If you’d like to kick it up a notch, buy the medium or hot canned chiles, add a little more white pepper, or top with some sliced jalapenos.

1/4 C flour

1 ½ tsp cumin

1 tsp white pepper

½ tsp salt

2 T oil

1 diced white or brown onion

3 cloves garlic, diced

3 C chicken broth

4 oz can mild diced green chiles

2 cans small white beans

2 shredded chicken breasts

TOPPINGS (best part!) may include: diced avocado, shredded cheese, broken tortilla chips, cilantro, and sour cream.

what to do

Step 1: Combine flour, cumin, white pepper, and salt.

Step 2: Sauté onion in oil for about 5 min. Add garlic and cook for 1 min.

Step 3: Add flour mixture and cook, stirring, for 1 min.

Step 4: Slowly add broth, stirring and letting it bubble.

Step 5: Add everything else. Cook until simmering and bubbling and heated through. Enjoy with a heap of toppings.

listen to this.

I don’t listen to many podcast episodes (I blame my low tolerance for banter about things that feel like a waste of time - Hi, have you met my ennegram-1 compulsion toward efficiency?), but this one really spoke to my heart and helped me understand people in my life. And any time something I read or hear expands my heart with compassion for others instead of shrinks it with judgement, I pay attention, and I try to share. Again, the efficiency thing.

This podcast walks you through four stages of faith as outlined by Brian McLaren and gave me some new language for why I’m regularly bumping up against people within my same faith tradition who believe very different things than I do.

The hour-long conversation (shorter, if you play it on 1.5x! I know, we are now really exposing my efficiency problem) is an excellent starting place for anyone who has questioned cultural standards of their faith that don’t seem to align with the God of the Bible, questioned why others seem to slap black-and-white labels on issues that contain a lot of grey, and questioned if they’ve actually moved away from or toward a depth of understanding about who God is and what he’s like.

If you give it a listen, I’d love to know your thoughts. It’s a great conversation starter, and there are some beautiful one-liners throughout. Here are a few ways to access the episode.

4 Stages of Faith; An Interview with Brian McLaren on his book Faith after Doubt

Here’s the link if you use the podcast app on an Apple device.

Here’s the link if you want to listen through Spotify.

Here’s the link to listen through YouTube.

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Right now, as I type, I am praying that at some point today, you feel a fresh sense of God’s affection for you. Do you feel his smile, his favor? You haven’t done anything to earn it; it’s just because you are utterly beautiful and exactly what he had in mind.

You are the beloved. We are getting there, together.

-Leslie