It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I said to the Lord in prayer a couple weeks ago.

I was sitting on my bedroom floor, looking out of my window into my swampy backyard. My thirty minutes of daily prayer– finally stopping long enough to let my heart breathe, I realized I’d been saying, “it’s fine” about things I didn’t feel fine about.

Expectations not met, friendships walked away from, endings I wasn’t expecting. In the midst of a sea of goodness– an incredible fiance, beautiful home, so much support and excitement for our wedding, and an amazing new job– there were pieces of my heart a little out of whack.

And I have a tendency to run from the uncomfortable. To think I don’t have a right to grieve loss when I’m in such abundance– as though to grieve would threaten what I have, and I would be left without. To grieve would mean dissatisfaction and ingratitude.

Yet, the reality doesn’t go away when I don’t recognize it.

I finally cried, and it was a good cry. Not the kind of cry that left me questioning all my life choices, or thinking that the world was ending– but the kind of cry where the tears watered my own soul.

We need to be refreshed by our own honesty with ourselves.

I don’t mean to thrust heaviness upon you, and I’m not telling you there’s always a reason to grieve – what I’m presenting is the idea, it’s hard to do something that doesn’t fit in your season.

It’s hard to celebrate in a season of sorrow.

It’s hard to grieve in a season of recognized goodness.

We like things to be tidy, and in boxes – to feel only what we understand, only what makes sense. Yet, how beautifully complex are our hearts and the very depths of our souls. If someone has ever criticized your for being complicated – oh, girl, it’s how your Father made you. If you’ve ever been frustrated with the complexity of your heart – how well you reveal the intricacy of your Father’s heart. 

I realized a long time ago that to not feel my own heart’s ponderings is to reject the love of Christ, and yet, it sometimes still takes me so long to feel what’s going on. But if I am unaware of the movements of my own heart, I’m unaware of His approval and delight in them. If I do not know myself, how could I know His love for me – if “me” is a person I have divorced myself from?

When we run uncomfortable emotions (such as sorrow or anger), we run from God’s love for us. So often, I try to fix things by simply, “It’ll be fine” or “It’ll go away” or “Don’t go there.” There is a time and a place not to dwell, but acknowledging is not dwelling. Acknowledging a lie from the enemy or a state of the heart is necessary to bring it to Jesus, so He can heal. 

Big things and little things – He’s here, with love to bestow.

When we’ve gone through trauma or loss, it’s hard once we’re in the victory season to recognize our heart’s uncomfortable emotions. I’ve felt before I’m not allowed – this is everything I ever prayed for, right? So there’s .

This particular honest prayer, prayed on a sunny morning, was so victorious, because I was so afraid to pray it – I had been so disappointed by some people, who had been my friends, or even some people who were close to me, who I hadn’t felt supported by.

And I gave it to the Lord, and honestly? The gravity lessened. The cloud, previously taking up my heart, dissipated, and I felt such understanding come from Him. He already knew – of course He did. 

Choosing to feel this disappointment didn’t mean I was blaming Him, and it didn’t send me into a search for answers, or the belief that I was messed up or life was terrible. I was able to acknowledge a sad thing, grieve the loss for a couple days, and then recognize how much more there was to come.

There’s such beauty in being grounded in something so much deeper than external details. There’s such beauty in recognizing nothing is petty to our Father – He wants it all.

Praise God for grace, friends. Don’t be afraid of your heart – be real with your Father, because He wants you to encounter the reality of His love, regardless of your season.