It's just that I've felt so utterly spent - emptied out, scraped clean and bone dry - that I haven't even been able to find the energy to sit down once to type up an update or vent on screen about the minutia of our life.
On one hand, I miss it. This blog has always served as a sort of journal of sorts - a place for the verbal processor in me to figure out how I feel about something.
On the other hand, I hardly thought about it in the last 60 days.
But here I am. Trying to figure out how to re-enter, or even if I want to re-enter.
Maybe now isn't the best time. Now, when I'm feeling a little bit desperate and a little bit exhausted and a little bit at my wit's end.
Maybe now is the best time. Now, when I need to take some steps toward faith and hope and work out for myself what God might be saying in the midst of the stress and the storm.
I'm closing my eyes. Taking a deep breath, and asking the question: What do you want to tell me, Shepherd? In my current condition, what are you saying? What is true? Where is my hope?
The first thing that comes to mind is the story of the fish and the loaves of bread. A large crowd comes to hear Jesus teach, and they are hungry with no catering service available. After some investigative work, the disciples report to Jesus that the only food available is a few fish and a few loaves of bread. That's all. It's nothing really. Not compared to the thousands of people who are squirming with hunger.
That's me. I'm squirming with my fears that I don't have what I need. I'm wondering how what I have to offer is going to be enough. Financially. Emotionally. Hourly. And the reality, is that a few fish and loaves are not going to feed the thousands. They aren't enough. I don't have enough.
But Jesus has a habit of taking the not-enough and turning it into more-than-we-need. Not only was everyone filled to satisfaction, but the disciples gathered up twelve basketfuls of leftovers.
So I will offer what I have - my measly fish and loaves - and trust Jesus to multiply it so that it will be enough. I will try to not let my heart be troubled, and believe him to care for me. I will stack stones and remember how he has been faithful in the past. I will put my hope in him.
And then I will come back here and tell you how he took our not-enough and turned it into more-than-we-need. How's that for a re-entry plan?
5For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord,
my confidence since my youth.
6From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.
I will ever praise you.
7I have become a sign to many;
you are my strong refuge.
8My mouth is filled with your praise,
declaring your splendor all day long.