As many of you know, Ben and I have been through a tornado of emotions and failed fertility treatments, as well as a miscarriage this past year. A week or so ago, we had negative results from our latest attempt. We had experienced the letdown of it before, so it was hard, but I had convinced myself that it wasn’t too big of a deal. Then we had to lead worship that Sunday morning. One of the songs on the list was “You are Good.” In rehearsal, I turned to Ben and said, I don’t want to sing this. I can’t sing this. Being the encouraging husband that he is, he said “we need to. We need to sing this.” He offered to lead it instead of me. When the time came to sing it, I was okay in the first 2 services. I wasn’t thinking about the words. I had imagined Ben doing a silly dance while I was singing so I wouldn’t really think about the words. Then the 3rd service came. I couldn’t shake it. I started to sing that song, struggling with each note, and honestly, with each word. To declare His goodness at that moment, was a major struggle. I didn’t believe it. I was mad. I was disappointed. Something in me shifted. I hadn’t paid attention to the words like that before. I mean, I had, but the conviction of the words, wouldn’t leave. We had to add a song last minute and it ended up being “Amazing Grace/My Chains are Gone” and the verse I always sing, came up on the screen. “The Lord has promised good to me. His Word my hope secures.” I literally thought to myself before singing it, “you’ve got to be kidding me.” I struggled through that verse. I broke in the car after that service. It was good for me to face the disappointment and to still declare God’s goodness.
This isn’t a blog about me declaring victory in a time of defeat. This isn’t an encouragement to pick up the pieces and get back to work, smiling all the way. It’s an explanation of what worship is for me. Sometimes it’s easy and I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it’s hard to sing those words and to lead others to the place of believing them. Did I believe them as I sang them that Sunday? Honestly, I didn’t. BUT what did happen was healing. Worship is always healing to me when I don’t realize it. It places me in a position of saying those things, of talking to my God, of being intimate with Him and my raw emotions. It was healing. He wasn’t offended by how I felt. I take comfort in that.
I tend to be a perfectionist concerning myself. I have unrealistic expectations, not for others, but for me. I just want everything to be in order. I don’t want people to hurt, so I try to fix it. I don’t want people to struggle, so I figure out how help carry the load. I don’t want people to go without, so I sacrifice things. This isn’t big on me at all. It’s to show that I don’t like the “yuck.” I want peace and happiness. I want to laugh and feel carefree. If something is broken, I want to help fix it. All of this sounds good, but it’s a resounding gong in my head. “STOP TRYING TO FIX EVERYTHING.” I even have this expectation of God to fix everything. Especially with the issue of having children. He’s able to, so why wouldn’t He just fix it. Well, Noelle, why can’t you just be still? To sit in the “yuck” and to feel the grossness? I’m not saying I can’t be optimistic. That’s my nature, but it’s vital that I be still and be okay with where I’m at because I KNOW my Savior has me. That’s what worship is for me. It makes me face the “yuck” sometimes and it makes me aware of His presence.
So here’s me. Letting it all out. Learning to trust God in the yuck, to be still, and not fix everything. To lay down my longings, my fears, my control, and sit with my God. He loves you. He’s sweet to us. He wants to hold us in the yuck, tears, and the really sweet and joyous times. You are loved. You aren’t alone. You’re His dream come true.