heavy heat

I'm sitting here wrapped in a jacket and blanket because my AC is cranked. Because I pay Grace thousands of dollars a year, I'm gonna suck up all their energy. And because it is a stifling, lifeless sauna outside.

And I wish it was the calming, relaxing, breathable heat that greets us on June lake days and melts our ice cream in July. But no. This heat suffocates and smothers. This is the worst kind of heat, the heat that shouldn't be here, that has overstayed its welcome. This Indian summer sun that seems to furiously focus its ruthless rays right into the center of our souls; resulting in discomfort at even the deepest level. The world is attempting to hide in its air-conditioned shelter, waiting for the dizzying, blurry heat to stop oozing all around us. It is this kind of heat that pushes me to my knees in heat-exhausted oblivion, begging our Lord Jesus to come back, and to please bring a cold front with Him.

The other night I got to enjoy one of the benefits of being a youth leader: getting to sumo wrestle.

this was where I was giving a mini-inner beauty lesson

showing my 90 pound sophomore what's up

owned.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of being completely protected by padding. I could fall anywhere! Jump on anything and anyone! I am completely safe in here! 

So I mercilessly charged at my sweet, tiny youth girl and didn't give her a chance.

I never let the little ones win. 

Reason #348 why I shouldn't be a mom.

 I feel stifled here. And I'm not just talking about walking through the halls that still don't have AC (way to go Grace) and I'm not even talking about the sweaty, heavy sumo suit I wore on Wednesday night. I wish it was the allergy gunk in my lungs from this weather that is forcing me to be intentional about my breathing. It would be great if my blasting AC made it easier for me to take deep breaths, but here I sit, breathing heavily and listening to the deep swells playing on my Film Score Pandora. I keep pulling on the neck of my shirt because I swear it's choking me.

I'm smothered by schedules and overwhelmed by practice times. Fogs of bitterness are encompassing my heart from past wounds. Dry times of prayer are suppressing my spiritual life. Resentment looms as questions about my love life from married friends who want me to be happy like them overwhelms me. There is a thickness in the air; I can't remember the last time I breathed in deeply. 

Even my blankets weigh heavily and damp right now; the humidity is everywhere and I feel like I have an ever-present sumo suit that slows me down, smells funky, and suppresses my lung capacity.

Last night I felt so surrounded I asked Sarah if she'd just read the Bible with me. I didn't feel like being girly and talking or watching a movie or painting my nails. I just needed to breathe in His presence and read His Word. So we sat there in that dimly lit room and just read.

There is a lot of life-figuring out to do. There are many questions that need to be answered, wounds that need to heal, mindsets that need to change, and trust that needs to increase. And the weight of that all fogs up my lungs; the air is thick with the unknown.

But I put that aside, and I just had to read His words. And breathing was still a conscious effort; the air still had this pressure and I honestly didn't feel much better.

But there was something about knowing I was immersed in words breathed by the Living God that lightened my load, and gave me the strength to keep breathing in this thick, hot, heavy air.