I need chocolate like a cigarette, and I circle the house, desperate. I settle for stale chocolate chips, until I remember the dark chocolate I bought for the teacher birthdays.
I think about Lysa’s book, Made to Crave, and I know it’s right what she says about craving God, not food. I think about Eve while I look at the white bowl filled with apples on my kitchen table. I take another bite of chocolate, wondering about my own cravings–I crave control and knowing, attention and approval. Comfort. And also, food.
My mind wanders to my most honest center, the place where I don’t have the desire to be an expert about anything, the place where I am small. I think about these books I’m writing, the ones that beat through my veins like hot blood, and I know that it will take miracle work to finish them because I’m just a kid, and what do I know?
But maybe being a kid isn’t so bad, these little ones who bring tummy aches and splinters straight to their parents. And I have a strange urge for a tummy ache, to bring my broken to my Daddy and say, It’s broken and I can’t fix it.
I want bows tied up like closure, like all-grown-up, but God gives comfort and gaping-open, child-like faith. Over and over, he gives. I am desperate, but I don’t wanna be. But only the hungry search for food, and only the sick need a healer. I consider what it looks like to delight in my weakness and to know a strength greater than me, me, me.
I’m changing my belief about faith, about the way it ought to look. It’s good as it is, even without the bows. Maybe especially without them, because this kind of faith feels less bubblegum, more grit.
I used to be afraid of the grit. But that was back when I knew everything.
by Emily Freeman, who blogs with gritty belief at Chatting at the Sky.
ABOUT EMILY FREEMAN
Emily Freeman is a writer who encourages girls of all ages to create space for their souls to breathe. She is the author of Grace for the Good Girl (Revell). She and her husband live in North...
{ 52 comments… read them below or add one }
“I consider what it looks like to delight in my weakness and to know a strength greater than me, me, me.”
The paradox of faith repulses some and woos others; somehow, unexplainably, it’s the mysteries of God and sometimes the things that don’t make sense that reinforce my belief.
Beautiful, Emily…poetic.
xo
Once again you’ve woven a post that contains so much truth and honesty with a little conviction thrown in for good measure.
Bows are overrated. ;-) Beautiful. Thank you for this.
“I’m changing my belief about faith, about the way it ought to look. It’s good as it is, even without the bows. Maybe especially without them, because this kind of faith feels less bubblegum, more grit.”
This hit home more than I can put into words here.
Thank you, once again, Emily.
I feel ya girl, we’re embracing the grit around here too. My bows kept getting tangled. hehe :)
The more I learn, the more I need to learn. But thankfully, He is a patient teacher!
Love your gritty girl!
Oh I love your desire to “be small” and not know everything. It is so true. We are much more useful when we are humble. Thank you for another beautiful post
Ah, Emily, wishing for a seat in your kitchen this morning, some of that chocolate, and a long chat about how words–such little things on the page–can cause such big fear. And I know the One who’s even bigger would slide into a seat right next to us. Whew. Thanks for the much-needed reminder that we can do this with Him and each other. You are some kind of wonderful. XO
‘But only the hungry search for food, and only the sick need a healer. I consider what it looks like to delight in my weakness and to know a strength greater than me, me, me.’
I love how your meditations on ‘smallness’ are weaving through your recent posts…i need it and this kind of hunger and faith and oh-i-hate-to-feel-it out of control and nothing coming together…but it is indeed the desperate faith I am being called to!
as always, you bless so! thank you emily:)
“… but God gives comfort and gaping-open, child-like faith. Over and over, he gives. I am desperate, but I don’t wanna be.” Gaping-open, vulnerable, exposed. Our weakness in full-view. Desperate. In need of someone bigger than ourself. Hidden in His strength. Clothed with His righteousness. Covered with His Spirit. Knit back together by His love.
Thank you for taking my hand, and through my desperation, leading me to the only true one who can save me.
Blessings to you-
~Stacy
Oh Emily, how your words sound alot like mine. I too am changing my faith. It’s growing like never before. Just got the book Made to Crave. Starting it today. Keep doing what your doing never stop writing and love the Lord with all your heart , soul, and mind. He’s all we have, He’s all we need.
God Bless you!
‘But only the hungry search for food, and only the sick need a healer. I consider what it looks like to delight in my weakness and to know a strength greater than me, me, me.’
i love these words Emily! I believe that is why I need to stay humble and dependent on Him otherwise I get arrogant and think I can do things on my own,
Great post today!
Bernice
8 reasons you may not have enough time
How we are…it’s by His design…as part of His plan for us to know Him more. Such love. Such acceptance.
Thank you, Emily. I needed to hear this today.
“And I have a strange urge for a tummy ache, to bring my broken to my Daddy and say, It’s broken and I can’t fix it.” Amen! It’s okay for me to feel that way, as long as I DO take the broken to Him in confidence He can fix anything.
God bless you today.
Less bubblegum, more grit. : ) I needed this today Emily. This has been a gritty weekend and is starting off an even grittier week. I need to remember that grit serves a purpose – like sandpaper or other polishing elements. Bubblegum doesn’t do much for woodwork or polishing anything for that matter. Grit does.
i like to read here and try to guess the writer before i get to the bottom. guessed you right today! grit. yes. indeed.
I can so relate to the part about not feeling like a grown up.
And, somehow, I feel like the more I admit how lacking I am, or feel like I am, the more grown up I really am.
It takes more maturity to admit you don’t know everything than it does to pretend you do.
This line “And I have a strange urge for a tummy ache, to bring my broken to my Daddy and say, It’s broken and I can’t fix it.” is a word for me – right to my heart – leading me straight to prayer. Just want to say thanks for writing.
xo
OH! This is classic Emily. Love, love, love.
“But only the hungry search for food, and only the sick need a healer. I consider what it looks like to delight in my weakness and to know a strength greater than me, me, me.”
For so long I felt it was wrong to admit my sickness…my weakness…my hunger.
Now, I know, it’s the only way to be healed…to be strong…to be filled.
Thank you.
not being afraid of the grit of faith, i like that! though there’s that part of me that still kinda, sorta longs for the bubblegum and bows too, ya know? wanting life to fit in that neat little box, wrapped up all pretty… and finding myself again and again returning to Him w/ gum stuck in my hair and bows tangled about as He gathers me in His arms, mess and all, and i discover deeper still “to know a strength greater than me, me, me.”
so touched by your words today, emily. they ministered to me right.where.i’m.at in this moment, struggling through the smallness~ and comforted to know i’m not alone in this journey.
blessed by you!
Really identifying with this today, with the desire to bring the broken and undone to The One who can fix it all!!! That’s what it’s all for! We get to experience the messes we get ourselves into so we understand our need for Him!!! Thanks!!!
Amen. There’s freedom in the grit!
Grit makes character. Beautifully written btw.
Back when I knew everything I was afraid of the grit, too. Thanks for these words.
this is beautifully written and reflects such wisdom.
as i was walking with a friend, lamenting about
how much i crave sugar, i heard myself say, “i
almost asked my husband to go get me some
cigarettes!” . . . even though i have never smoked.
:)
i love this emily. it’s beautiful!
“But only the hungry search for food, and only the sick need a healer.”
I have to remind myself that it’s good to be in need, desperately seeking something, Someone to be in charge and fix things. Cause then I stop trying to do it myself. I just get in the way of the bigger Good.
It’s gritty over here these days. Thanks for this post.
So true. All of it. But still, I hate the persistent weakness and want to banish it away. And yet, it’s what keeps me clinging and dependent. So raw and real this post…love it.
Beautiful post. I love it!
Absolutely beautiful post, Emily! Thank you for sharing from your heart. What a blessing to read this today!
Thank you for such a vulnerable snapshot.
Delightful…
Lovely, Emily!
The grit, be it grief, sin, self-righteousness…it teaches us that He is in all things…and in all things He teaches us, grows us and changes us.
Bless you
Jen
Wow and Amen! Yes.
Thanks for expressing this Truth of our weakness so well. x x
So much power in so few words. I am impacted by this post, Emily. Every word in it.
So thankful that the path to my Daddy is short (and well-worn), and that He is waiting patiently, knowing full well what I bring with me. Thank you for being real and honest!
I wish we were all a little more accepting of the grit. Even when I finally decide I am weak and gritty and become totally OK with it all, I need others to still love me through my grit. Sometimes I fear others expect me to be bubblegum and bows. And they don’t want to deal with my grit.
Thank you for putting into words what my heart’s been wrestling with recently. I’ve been wanting my faith to look a certain way – to look fearless and easy. God’s been showing me that it’s the obedience even in the times I feel small that is what glorifies Him. I always look forward to reading your posts – they are beautiful!
First you can’t write because you’re just a kid and then you can’t write because you’re a dinosaur.
Good for you, for just writing, trusting God to give you what you need.
Authenticity revels in need.
I love how God continues to change us, to grow us into HIS. I remember knowing everything and being secure in my knowledge and then, He started to chip away at my knowing. It is gritty and it’s vulnerable.
Blessings,
Mel
Please feel free to stop by: Trailing After God
Yes–and will we believe that He who takes us there will not disappoint, will not forsake, but fill us more deeply. So beautiful, so timely!
Oh Emily: “But only the hungry search for food, and only the sick need a healer.”
I am in need of both…
Craving Him with you… He alone is our only balm…
I love you, friend…
So.
All’s grace,
Ann
Beautiful Emily. I’m somehere in the knowing-everything-then-knowing-nothing-now-not-sure-I-want-to-know-or-where-to-start. It’s messy & complicated, but we do still need faith & a Savior.
Wasn’t it nice back when we knew everything???
But not too…those were sweaty, heavy years weren’t they?
Oh bless you Emily! Can’t wait to crack open those books…and maybe a chocolate or two?
I read a lot of blogs…….A LOT……..really….
So many of them have inspired & encouraged & challenged me in MANY way
BUT…..
Your words are the ONLY ones in which I have found myself weeping in two different blog posts. I mean, REAL TEARS flooding down my cheeks.
I just usually don’t go there, but your words penetrate past the neat little walls that I try so desperately to hold into place.
Thank you AGAIN for being so real.
i love this. i think i’ll print it and pop it in my journal so i can read it over again.
thank you.
You know ….me too…I like the grit way more than the bubble gum…I SEE HIM much more in the grit, I think! :)
Emily and others. I am grateful for reading this post and your stories. It is humbling to be in a place of desperation, need and sometimes despair. However, it is a gift to learn that many of us are sharing a similar experience…embracing the grit.
Thanks to Emily and each of you.
I enjoy reading your blog… my faith growing everyday because of His Grace and wonderful Love.. His mercies endureth Forever…
beautiful.
“…delight in my weakness and to know a strength greater than me…” I’ll claim that today.