My Bootstraps are Broken

    I think I have mentioned before that I am tired. This year's journey seems never ending and with no levelling off  anytime soon.  We are in a season of illness, stillness and pressure.  I also laugh as I write this, because I know that God is fully with me and that He is still sovereign and that I am a  two year old writhing around in His lap, fussing and fuming. Having had many a two year old in my own lap, this makes me smile because there is always a humorous side to it. Two year olds can be very funny and super dramatic.  They also have no idea of what is best for them.
    My bootstraps really are broken. I have nothing left with which to pull myself up and get going again on my own power.  I was raised by a man who demanded that I be strong and self sufficient from the time I was very young. As a young teen I was given book after book about being in control, making life work and being number one (actually, I read a book called Looking Out for #1). Instead of putting me in control and confident, I struggled with depression and an overwhelming sense of failure and hopelessness. Part of the push - pull in my home was that I should be strong and dominant and also that I was bad and would never amount to anything. Plus, I am a perfectionist and I felt very deeply in my soul, that nothing was ever truly perfect, not in performances or even in nature. It was always somehow damaged. Even a longed for party or holiday was marred by imperfection and the weight of this, coupled with the expectation to make a strong life for myself, actually wound up paralyzing me and I spent much time longing for death or an escape from the hopelessness.
    Enter Jesus Christ, the only perfect man the world has ever known.  It was the end of my grade 12 year and I was invited to hang out with some young people I was beginning to get to know better after a high school choir bus trip to Vancouver and back. I don't remember much of the evening, or even who was speaking, but I remember vividly the description of the perfect man who never made mistakes, never got tired, knew the future and loved me unconditionally and would lead the way for me. Oh, thank you God! Even as I write this, I remember the profound relief and the gift of hope. John 14:6 "Jesus said, I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except thru me". Granite. Solid, strong and rational. I had been searching all my teen years and was found by my loving God.
    My father grew up in a very poor, very rigid home and as soon as he could, he left his family, their teachings and even the province to get away and make his own life. My mom was raised in a small town and going to church was a way of life, but not actual relationship with God. She was happy to go with Dad but very sympathetic to me when I began searching. She took me to a church that was full of happy people who really were all about making life work and the sermons were a shot in the arm to keep you going and try harder. Depressing and so we stopped going. Dead end.
   Fast forward to the end of Grade 12 and the hope I found in Jesus. Rock solid. Real hope. I went home and my father expressed his disappointment in my weakness. My inability to use my bootstraps properly and get going. Normally, this would be world ending and yet, the hope I had found was real and unrelenting. I was safe. There's a reason I couldn't find perfection and that it is good to need Someone to make a way for me. The Fall. Until the Father sets everything right again, life here on planet earth will be hard, dirty and imperfect. Phew!!!
    My father gave me some good gifts. A desire to read and know what I thought and felt and be able to back up my  thinking. I began to read and learn about Christianity and the truth that was unshakable. A solid granite path beneath my feet both academically and experientially in my life. I began to grow and read and enjoy. I met an amazing man, we married and had a beautiful family. We moved away from out city of origin and found our place in a new home and a new church. Awesome. We struggled and were messy and weak and God rescued us and we knew peace amidst the struggles.
    Until fairly recently. When again, I realized that there was an expectation even within my own community that the time had come for me to pull myself up by the bootstraps and fix things. Get over your daughter's cancer, she's recovering. (Not really, but it sounds good.) Get back in control of your body and lose the weight you gained, get your house in order, get back into life, GET IT TOGETHER!! In all fairness, this could be old voices in my head to add to just a few, not the majority of people in my life. It really wouldn't be surprising would it? :)
    My bootstraps are broken. I have no energy, no desire and not even an idea of how to fix anything. One of my very dear friends has been sidelined to her couch for a long while, as her broken body tries to get rid of garbage it has carried for many years. We are in agreement that we are both in a counter cultural - both world and church - stream right now. Hidden, quiet and broken. I have a deep sense that God is doing good things, completely unaided by my help or her help. Life is not just lived for here on planet earth, we are getting ready for the life to come. Nothing here will ever be wasted. God is sovereign. How come I know this and it hurts so much? How come I know how weak I am but I still hate to admit it?
    On my calendar right now is a quotation that I have been reading over and over. It's a gooder.
"Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow. The same loving Heavenly Father who took care of you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day; either He will heal you from pain, or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it. So be at peace then. Put aside anxious fears and imaginings and say continually, "The Lord is my strength and my shield. In Him do I place my trust and I am helped"". (St. Francis de Sales in the 1500's)
    I have been evaluating my life here since coming home in June. My husband and I are struggling to make some decisions for our family and our future. I have been tugging on my broken bootstraps to get myself up and ready to fix it all, and failing miserably. Thank you God for that gift of weakness. When I think about hearing from Jesus, what do I want? Do I want mere relief from my pain and demand blessings? NO! I want to hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You loved me above all and I am pleased". I will wait and be quiet and leave those darn bootstraps alone.
Just thinking.