Years ago, I read a post from Glennon Doyle. It described an experience she had with sharing a simple act of love and then being criticized for how she did it wrong. She explained her anger, her process, but then as she prayed that God would help her make her mess into something beautiful, she felt stay open. stay open. stay open.
That stuck with me.
For years, I’ve talked about, craved, and tried to cultivate community- groups of people that know each other and are in it together. Issues like fair trade haven’t been a far reach for me, because after all, I wanted to be part of the gorgeous work of helping each other up and cheering each other on.
Let me let you in on a little tidbit that surprised me (and still does, from time to time)- the closer I get to real community- knowing people up close, doing the real work of loving them and letting myself be loved- the less glamorous it is.
I think I have a good heart, but there are messes shoved in the corners.
I think I want community, but then oftentimes, the actual work of it isn’t glamorous or fun at all.
It’s messy. Relationships are messy.
When I get quiet lately, I feel the reminders- open up your hands.
Open up your hands, Sarah.
Those things I’ve been gripping so tightly? There’s no life in that work. You’re wearing yourself out needlessly.
Open up your hands and let it be taken:
Our groceries when I’m worried about sticking to the number on the grocery budget but I have plenty to share.
How I think things should be when there are multiple ways to do them.
Whether my heart is understood or I am approved of when I am sharing what I feel a push to share.
Relationships are hard. They reveal the messes in me that need to be addressed, and it’s work. Quite honestly, I don’t always want to do it. Un-clenching my hands is work after I’ve been holding so tightly for so long, but Y’all…
There’s no life in clamped hands.
The work of relationships, of community, of cleaning out the heart corners- it’s not what I once pictured it would be, but when I am able to do it, my heart becomes less tight, too, and I am able to breathe- and live- more freely.
Sarah's Table 