Leave… an interesting thought in the trials of life.
Is it an unbiblical thought?
And if anyone will not receive you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet when you leave that house or town. Matthew 10:14, but it’s about the Gospel. However, I think becoming a doormat, feeling unheard, quickly shuddered or judged in brief conversations, unrecognized despite always showing up, or looked at sideways because you’re the “Gentile” of the bunch sometimes leads to the heart wanting to depart.
Trials. I am certainly leaning somewhere on the edge of depletion, uncared for, definitely unheard, unseen, and misunderstood. I am an outsider looking in. And in that, it’s tough when no one wants to hear your voice.
I am a mother who protects her children with boundaries yet gives them opportunities to talk about the world and the deficiency of values and morals. We don’t hide from topics, but we don’t nose-dive into vulgarity and lack of modest behaviors that lead away from a Christian worldview. We hold together, serve together, cry and laugh together, and stand firm.
I am a wife who happens to have the Spiritual guidance of the home fall upon her shoulders. It’s not traditional and typically not Biblical, but it is what it is for the time being. I am the keeper of all schedules, home, schooling, joy, and sanity. Burdens fall upon me to fix many things and I keep the home front and midnight oil burning for the majority of our married life. The yellow ribbon has been tied around that oak tree for a long time and I still live on the edge of what the military has dictated to our lifelong struggles.
I am a servant that often goes unrecognized. Home, church, community, and other ministries. I support, lead, give time and money, and prayed. We sponsor children overseas and help women to choose life here at home. Tears have been shed over the hard work I have spent for people and places that I wish would do better without me at times. I don’t need the honorary trophy or a year-end bonus. A thank-you is nice sometimes, but not vital. I just want to feel appreciated at times, instead of unseen in a place because I am different, from the outside, not the southern belle, not the right accent, not the right slow attitude that permeates the minds of the people who feel comfortable in their safety bubbles.
I am an advocate. Standing for faith comes first, but many things come in a close second. The sanctity life is of utmost value, without it, nothing else matters and I have cried it from the streetcorners. I stand for family, stand against ableism and plant firmly against cruelty towards anyone or any creature. Justice is first and always belongs to the Lord.
Leave…
Staring in the face of partiality and a lack of wanting to know life outside of southern comfort, I am facing down this adulthood hurt wrapped tightly with a big hairbow and big hair and a big attitude wearing big boots of accents and cold shoulders despite the “bless your heart” sentiments. Listen here, Honey and Sir, Jesus loves us all, and He blesses all of us, and doesn’t use that phrase to swear at us in southern.
I have seen the world with eyes wide open and served in places that would knock that hairbow off that big hair. Sir, those tears you made roll out of my daughter’s eyes because she’s, well, a girl who doesn’t fall into your favoritism has moved great mountains and done mightier things than you could imagine in your small-town puffed-up ideas.
I digress.. I will not leave… I will forgive… and, Lord, please, once again, help me to get over this bitterness that has planted itself inside my heart over the constant hurt that church and people and family and life have dealt us over and over again. And if it is time to go, if roots are not to be planted, if dust needs to be shaken off these feet to be left behind in this town, in this city, neon flashing lights would be very helpful right about now.
Rant over, prayer sent, and conviction met.
So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13
Love…
Maryann, I’m sorry it’s been so darn tough for you and your family. God sees, even when no one else does. Sometimes, when people don’t see, they care, but don’t understand. Other times, they don’t care. And there is a time to shake the dust off and move on. Just last week, my pastor’s wife was prayed for, and had her feet washed, because she needed to shake the dust off from the last difficult season, and walk on refreshed and renewed. It was a powerful gesture from a humble lady, and it was well received. Sometimes, He gives us grace to stay; sometimes He gives us the faith to leave. Visiting from FMF #19 this week.
You sound like a lady who would encourage me to do more… and rightly so. 🙂 FMF17 I hope I wouldn’t be one you would shake the dust of your feet off of. 🙂
I shake the dust from older days
that bound me to a paradigm
of things that I could never praise,
but what the hell, this is my dime,
and I choose to honour those
whose remains I found to bury,
not in a cathedral close,
nor a sanctioned cemetery,
but in the mud in which they fell,
accompanied by a heartfelt prayer.
If indeed they go to hell,
it’s my job to yeah, go there
and stand with brothers, never awed
even ‘fore the face of God.