Lately, I’ve been hating Sundays.

I don’t know what’s going on with me, but to be honest with you, I’ve been struggling. I’ve been struggling bad and I don’t even know who I can voice it to. I mean, yes, I know I can talk to God. I talk to Him in my head. I talk to Him out loud. Sometimes, I just let my small tears do the talking for me….He knows all the silent and very verbal languages of Key. It’s just hard. I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but sometimes, I just don’t want to go to church. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE my church. I love the people there. I love their hugs. I love their smiles. I love corporate worship. I love that we are a bunch of imperfect people, serving a perfect God, just trying to get our lives together, but some Sundays, I just don’t want to go there. Why?

Because I have to go to church alone.

I don’t want this to be a sob story blog. Hopefully, it won’t be. But for me, it is really hard. I don’t know if it’s because it’s hitting me that I’ll be 32 next month and to me it just seems unreal that I ain’t living in wedded bliss with a kid in my arm. I don’t know if it’s because my male bestie is getting married and our whole relationship is going to shift. Maybe I’m simply struggling with just not being further along in my walk with God OR I could simply be trippin’ cuz I’m feeling lonely and emotional…whatever it is, I been struggling Sunday mornings. My thoughts be like:

-Are you depressed, Key?

-What can I wear today to not look how I feel inside?

-Is anybody ever looking at me like why she cute, but single? Is she crazy? Is she cursed?

-Does God care that these feelings are robbing me of joy today?

-Is my womb starting to prune up, yet?

-Why does it seem like Sunday is picture perfect family day?

-Why do I seem so lonely in a building full of great people?

I try to put on my happy pants and my happy face and pretend like I was not just crying in bed an hour before service. It’s insane. Sometimes I just wish that God didn’t make feelings. Sure we’d be a bunch of empty and void human beings, but then I wouldn’t care about being alone or rejected or frustrated or fearful of the future.

But that’s not the way life works, Key.

I think I’m just mad at God sometimes. Like I have seriously told Him that sometimes I feel like He’s trying to torture me. I know that’s insane to say especially about God. I’m glad He allows me to voice my craziness without holding it against me, but that’s how I feel. He knows I am really really scared of being old and alone, yet He won’t just take away me wanting to stop being scared of growing old and alone. He knows my every struggle, yet He just won’t poof them away. He knows that I tend to fall for those I need to keep on my block list, but yet He won’t just take away the feelings that I have for the wrong ones. He knows I try my darndest to embrace embrace embrace the gift of singleness, but then He won’t force me to just consistently love it.

God, where are You and how can I escape how I’ve been feeling lately????

Though my Sundays have been kind of tough, this past Sunday, I kept hearing one word in my head that is helping me through–Daughter.

Daughter…if you are a guy and reading this, sorry this word can’t connect with you, but to me, this word is everything.

I’m God’s daughter.

And as His daughter, there are certain rights and privileges I have.

-I belong to Him.

-I bear His name.

-He would never ever leave me alone.

-As my Father, He takes special care of me.

I can feel all the craziest feelings in the world, but when my Daddy in Heaven looks down on me, He sees His child..His daughter. My tears, my worries, my frustrations, my brokenness…none of it is a surprise to Him and all of it matters to Him. Even now, I feel comfort from Him. What’s even better is that as His daughter, I know His biggest concern is to do what’s best for me. So like, even though I may think Joe Smoe sitting on the opposite side of the church is the stuff, God sees the entire picture and chooses to curb that trouble that I don’t need.

Even when I think I’m ready for more kids, God sees how I spaz out when Ethan is not conforming to the way I think he should be and God is like, “Yeaahhhh, sweetheart, you may not be as ready for kid number 2 like you think.”

I can’t even imagine how things feel for God. He has to look at His daughter not knowing who she is, whose she is…He has to watch me struggle and blame Him most days. He has to see me cry over someone who I thought was it when the whole time He was warning me not to go down that path. God has to watch his daughter, me, not trust Him. That’s gotta suck.

This repeat of the daughter word in my head immediately got me thinking of a Bible story I love love love…the woman with the issue of blood. This woman had been bleeding for 12 years. I could not imagine what life this woman had to endure. For 12 years I’m pretty sure that people in her time considered her unclean, forgotten, cursed, forsaken. I’m sure she thought God Himself had forgotten her. I just know she felt alone in every way. I mean, how could she not have felt that way? That woman had been suffering for YEARS.

But she had heard of Jesus.

She made her way to the King. She saw her opportunity to be healed and she went for it. Forget the shame. Forget the past. Forget those fickle feelings of abandonment and hurt. She trusted that Jesus would heal her. Her faith caused her to push past what people thought and get to Jesus and her healing and Jesus responded in a way that touched my heart.

Mark 5:28-34 (NLT):

²⁸ For she thought to herself, “If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.” ²⁹ Immediately the bleeding stopped, and she could feel in her body that she had been healed of her terrible condition. ³⁰ Jesus realized at once that healing power had gone out from him, so he turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my robe?”

³¹ His disciples said to him, “Look at this crowd pressing around you. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’”

³² But he kept on looking around to see who had done it. ³³ Then the frightened woman, trembling at the realization of what had happened to her, came and fell to her knees in front of him and told him what she had done. ³⁴ And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.”

Jesus took time to stop and acknowledge this woman. Out of everyone around Him, Jesus let this woman know that she was known. Even more astonishing, He could have called this woman any other name, but He called her daughter. That word is personal. That word is intimate. That word means love in and of itself. When I hear that, it means that my Savior loves me more than I could ever love me. It means He wants to protect my heart. It means that no tear is wasted, no heartbreak was ever in vain. It means I’m really His. I’m sure that’s how she felt and this is truly how I’m feeling now.

As God’s daughter, His job is to protect me and my heart. As His daughter, he can’t just throw me off on someone that won’t cover me and Ethan in prayer. He can’t hand me off to someone who can’t be trusted with my heart. Most importantly, God knows every single thing I need and He knows what I can and cannot be trusted with. Therefore, He has to make some tough decisions to protect me, even if He has to see me crying. He knows what’s best and just like that woman with the issue of blood trusted that her Savior would heal her and make her whole, I got to trust Him, too.

The one theme I think I’m dealing with in this season is trust. Trusting that God will take great care of not just me and my heart, but my family, my friends, my life. I live in so much fear of the unknown. I get so frustrated when things don’t go my way, but it’s time out for that. My life ain’t even my own anymore. When I gave my life to Jesus, I actually GAVE my life to Jesus. I think we forget that. We confess with our mouths and believe in our hearts that God raised Jesus from the dead. We embrace salvation and clap our hands in glee that we’re going to Heaven, but we forget the commitment that we made to the Lord. I’ve forgotten the commitment I made to give my life over to Him and to trust that He knows what’s best for me even when it hurts. Even when I don’t understand. Even when I feel like I’m in some weird silent season with God. He ain’t went nowhere. He’s just trying to see where my faith is.

Lord, I get really in my feelings and I guess this season, my emotional day is wanting to be on Sundays. I dread being by myself even though I have a round faced little boy holding my hand everywhere I go. You see my heart. You see my desires, but even better, You see the bigger picture. May I trust Your decisions being the good good Father you are. May I stop being led by my emotions and instead be led by Your Spirit. Lord, I really do thank you for my son, Ethan. He shows me that parenting ain’t no joke. You will do whatever you have to do as a parent to protect your child–even protect your child from themselves. There are decisions I’ve made that I’m sure Ethan didn’t agree with or understand, but as his parent, I have to do things that I know are in his best interest, even if he can’t see it or even if I don’t give any explanation. I don’t have to. I’m his mama. And You God, as my Daddy, You don’t owe me any explanations either. If I gotta be single in this season, so be it. If I gotta set real boundaries around my heart, cut off things I know are hindering my growth, freedom, and walk, so be it. I’m excited that I get to spend the rest of my life and even after with You. I’m excited for tackling everything in this life together with You in the lead. I’m proud to be your daughter. I’m proud to be protected by You. Though I don’t always understand. Though my heart hurts because I think I know what I want when I want it, You will ALWAYS know better for me. Continue to parent me, love me, cover me, comfort me, and surround me with Your sweet Presence, Daddy. There is nowhere in the world I’d rather be than inside the confines of Your Heart and Will. I may not know how to handle my Sundays, but You do. May I give every single area of my heart and life to You. Out of the million and one things You are bomb at, Your ability to trade my tears for joy is impeccable. I love You, now and always. Love, Your daughter.