top of page

It’s (Not) a Wonderful Life

(I wrote this post years ago, during an extended time of unemployment for my husband.)

Image credit:

Recently someone greeted me with congratulations on the published book and said, “That’s wonderful! Your whole life seems wonderful.”

I assured her I am far from wonderful,  and wondered how many others are under the same delusion. I’ve had such a difficult time lately that I can’t find words to blog or post. The only Facebook status I could muster yesterday was:

Life is hard. But I have hope. (I’ll get to that.)

But first, if you feel life is hard, I want to let you know you’re not alone. I am here, taking your hand and whispering a simple, “I know.” 

I know there are things you can’t talk about, to anyone. I know the crushing disappointment weighing on your chest at the thought that it may always be this way. 

I know what it’s like to have your chain loosened enough to make you run toward freedom, only to be jerked so hard you fall on your face to the ground. 

And how you hardly have the heart to get back up this time. I know because I am there (to a degree, with my own unique circumstance), and have been for quite some time.

But there’s something else I know and that is why I peel my spirit off the ground once again and keep walking forward.

I want to jump right out of this boat and onto the water.*

I have demanded for far too long that He calm the storm first, but the Master of the seas would sooner master me. 

And I have resisted.

I’ve allowed circumstances to dictate my peace. I stood there last Sunday and told the congregation that if you have Jesus and His compassion, you are filthy rich. I want to see a spurt of oil soon.

I want to stop looking for the light at the end of the tunnel; I want to stop seeing the tunnel altogether. It’s not always a wonderful life. But it is a wonder-filled life and I’m in awe of how quickly I forget Who He is.

I felt my way through the darkness this morning and found the words He spoke on His way up the hill…

“…(W)eep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children….”** I want to care more about the burdens others carry than the weight of my own cross. I want to weep for those who don’t have hope in the Resurrected Lord.

Those who don’t know it won’t always be this way. He will make all things new.***

He makes all things new. Today I have new eyes and I can see what I didn’t see yesterday: the form of a Man walking toward me, and I don’t care that the storm is raging and I have no idea how we’re going to get out.

I just know I’ve got to get to Him, keep holding on to Him, as I have finally decided I’d rather hold His hand where it’s unsafe and uncertain than wait from a distance for the winds to quiet down and the clouds to pass.

* The story of Peter jumping out of the boat is found in John 21.

**Luke 23:28

***Revelation 21:5


bottom of page