I am a coward.
A yellow-bellied coward.
A while back, I wrote this amazingly transparent blog post, one of my most popular to date, and I tucked my tail and ran.
I'll tell you why. I was going through a very trying time with my husband's extended unemployment season and God wanted me to pour it all out
on this blog
for the world (or my little small piece of it, anyway) to see.
He wanted me to share about my joys, angst, teary midnight hours, debilitating fear, and, most importantly, my guilt about not going back to work when my husband couldn't find a job.
Lamb to the slaughter is just not my thing. I don't look good in bloody white wool. Sorry. Let's be real. That's what would've happened. A social media crucifixion from those who would've raked me through the coals as a lazy bon-bon eating housewife who was too selfish to go forth and conquer in order to help her husband. Or, so I imagined in my head, anyway. But, really.
What kinda woman does that?
Why? When we knew there was a possibility that he would lose his job due to economic downturn, I cried out to the Father and said, "Lord, it's your girl, Trina. You know me. I'll go in and knock it out of the park. You just say the word. You told us to homeschool these three boys you gave us, but if you need me to end this season for a while and grab my bat, I will. I've got common sense, Lord, and if it calls for a game changing play, I'll win one for the team. Put me in the game, Coach. However, if you want me here, at home, then I want you to tell my husband. If he loses his job, I'm going to ask him what he wants me to do. If he says to stay home, I will know without a shadow of a doubt that you called that play, because we both know it will take an act of the Supernatural to get him to say something like that in such a time as this!"
Then, he came home in the middle of the day. He said, "They let me go." I held him tight and I said, "Put me in the game, coach." Then, he told me he wanted me to continue to homeschool the kids
as God has called me to do.
My stomach dropped down to my toes.
Try explaining that to people who love you and are concerned about your family. It doesn't go over too well. I felt raw.
It was so hard to lean in and trust. It was so hard to keep my eyes on Him as He led us out upon the waters and ignore the looks, comments, and well-meaning talking-to's.
If I dealt with that in my daily life, why in the world would I subject myself to the type of potential backlash that could occur from posting it in the blogosphere? I ignored the messages from people who told me they were inspired to trust God more because of what they saw us walking through. I didn't take encouragement from the many who silently supported us and uplifted us.
No, when God wanted to use this little blog as a means to offer inspiration and hope to my very few readers and Facebook friends as I shared about walking through that journey with Him, I panicked.
And I hid.
And I left the blogosphere.
I dimmed my light and receded into darkness, keeping the many ways He showed up and showed out in our lives to myself.
So, that's the truth.
I left because, in my moment of very broken humanity, I imagined my God too small to fulfill what He said He would do to His glory through my life story.
Don't we all? At some point, we all stumble and take our eyes off of Him. Isn't that why we need a Savior?
I left, but I'm back, and I may or may not write later about why I came back. Thanks for sticking around.