It's only been seven months.
What ON EARTH have I been doing, you ask?
I've been in my laundry room. I moved in for seven months thinking I could finish all the laundry and clean out the mess.
Nope. It will never, ever be finished. Ever.
One day, I'd just had it. I couldn't take one more day of the squalor. So, I came. I saw. And, I cleaned out TWO YEARS of mess, and now I'm moving back in. Because it's the cleanest room in the house.
But, listen. Can we just have a moment of silence for all the members of Messmakers Anonymous in this world who TRIUMPH over things like this? Because this is like "BEST DAY EVER" for someone like me. And, I moonwalked outta there LIKE A BOSS, drove to Starbucks, ordered a Venti, and told the drive-thru girl I'd cleaned my laundry room and I was celebrating. She was 12. And, handed me a cup full of apathy.
Still. BEST. DAY. EVER!
It's a big mess, again. Not as bad as it was before. (Random boot, anyone?) But, it only took me 10 years to come to the conclusion that the laundry will never, in fact, be finished.
But, that isn't really where I've been. (Duh, Sar.)
One morning last Spring, I was sitting having coffee with my husband. In this very candid conversation we were having about why he and I were having trouble loving someone, he said, "She always has to have a microphone."
And, that sentence hit me like a ton of bricks.
"She always has to have a microphone."
I mean. Ouch.
It was time for me drop the mic. And exit stage left.
You know, I love that God gives each of us a unique story. Stories filled with pain, heartache, difficulties, and trials. But, always - always filled with His goodness, His hand, and His love and grace through all of it. We get to tell HIS story when we tell ours and there is so much beauty and wonder and I imagine He delights when we say to others in any way we can (in pictures, in words, in social media or in books or articles or small groups or large groups or sitting across from a friend) - "Can I tell you what God's doing in my life?"
But, I've learned something these last several months:
When I put down the microphone, God can whisper.
In the quiet absence of social noise, He can speak softly into those hushed spaces of my life in ways that He can't when I fill them with my own thoughts and words.
I didn't disappear from the face of the planet. I didn't "go off the grid" or stop taking photos or blare No Doubt's "Don't Speak" from my iPod in some sort of musical irony.
But, I put down the microphone that represents this space here - and it helped me really listen to Him.
Do you know what happened?
For the first time in ten years, I picked up a microphone. Like a real one.
I started singing, again. This thing that I have loved my whole life. And after ten years of being away from it, God started prodding - like He does. And, in that quiet space, as I sought out how to best serve Him in this season of my life, I felt that nudge.
Maybe I should start singing, again?
And, it has blessed me so much to help lead worship in the church that I love.
I always laugh (and cry and scowl and eye roll) that my husband can speak such wisdom into my life - when he isn't trying to.
This friend? The one we were discussing last Spring - I have found grace for her. Because I now see the struggle in me. But wow - how God can use seasons of quiet contemplation - of searching instead of saying. Of listening instead of speaking. To whisper His will, to reveal His tenderness, and to crack open doors that we wouldn't hear opening had we been shouting out the window.
Seven months. 2.4 million loads of laundry. And, I've learned: I don't always need a microphone. (Well, unless I'm leading worship. Then let's hope I actually remember to step up to it and sing. On time. And don't pull over my monitor during communion causing a church full of prayerful juice holders to wonder, "WHAT IS THAT NEW GIRL DOOOOING???")
Yeah. There's that. Humble pie, y'all.
Before I sign off today, here's a ragamuffin photo of my people.
Reppin' the Ravens. Of course.
And, lest you think this microphone thing includes quiet where our Ravens are concerned?
You know me better than that.