Reap What You Sow

I am in a dark place in life. Those around me know my struggle, those intimately around me know the worst of it.  I’m not proud of who I am right now.  I struggle daily with anxiety and an eating disorder, but it isn’t who I used to be.  I used to mentor young girls, care for babies, love everyone around me, and enjoy a night out every once in a while.  I played sports, I attended school, and I still found time to go to church and spend time with family.  I was reaping a good harvest.  Now, in this time of “harvest” I am grasping at broken straws.  I have few babies, few friends, and I have a hard time loving because I have a hard time being around others.  My goal in this time is to help myself, but I need others to help me too.  When doctors refuse to call or help me, I find myself in a more hopeless situation.  However, when I look at the relationships I have right now, I realize that they came from a healthy harvest time.  I’ve build intimate relationships with a handful of women, at a time of joy and laughter, and now, at a time of tears and sorrow, they are still my people.  Their kids still love me, while I have tainted my trusted reputation, they let me stick around and love in any way I can.  Whether it’s draw pictures, eat a meal with their family, laugh and dance, watch project runway, practice handwriting or math with the homeschoolers, snuggle and hold their babies, or just feel like I am okay enough to be in their homes. While I am not whole, they are helping me by being present, while also allowing me to be present in my broken state.  Some days the kids go to bed and I fall apart, some days I laugh more than I frown.  Some days I stay up way later than I plan, and other days I leave early to try and get some sleep.  This is a dry time in my life.  I can not produce fruit in my life.  But what I have in my life are rain makers and farmers who reap for me or with me.  So I am not reaping a harvest of dead fruits or broken flowers, but I am growing flowers that require a little more attention, but are not a lost cause.

I am not a lost cause.  I am going to successfully reap again.  But for now, my rain and my farmers will stand beside me, leading me to Christ daily, loving me, allowing me to love their babies, eat their food, and sit on their couches in silence.  And that’s enough for now.