When You Need To Meet Him By The Well

November 15, 2012

I wake to a massively cluttered house and wily children who would rather frolic in their pajamas than lift a finger wipe down a bathroom counter or haul the trash out. There’s so much garbage in our life, and my heart is guilty of acting as a dumpster. I’m irritated at how careless we can be, at how we let this place fall down around us.

I pull at my hair, tripping over the mess and the stuff that splits this house and heart at the seams. I think I might suffocate under the weight of all this life.

By lunch time, I realize I’ve had neither breakfast nor showered and my half hearted morning devotion isn’t enough to sustain me through the wilds of this day.

I’m tired.



I clap frustrated hands and push the children to chores and we put the off the books for now, as we try to make sense of this place. I’m dizzy with to-do’s, overwhelmed by motherhood–burdened by my sinful tendancies.

It’s been a long week and I’ve wrestled words out 10,369 words, bleeding all of them in drips and gushes alike, deep into the early hours of dawn when I should have been sleeping.

Mother-writers steal time–that’s how they serve. They sometimes sacrifice sleep and showers and meals and sanity, just to get the message out–just to fill the cups of others, by His grace. Only by grace.

This last week, I’ve dumped words and untangled ministry growing pains and the dust swells inside and I’m needing to meet Him by the well. I’ve not had five husbands but I’ve still sins to be forgiven and I still need to go and live differently. I need water that quenches eternal thirst.

My friend listens quietly across the telephone line and I’m simple enough to still be amazed by this technology that carries voices through house walls, across neighborhoods and zip codes. She hears me, my weaknesses laid bare, my feeble apologies for missteps and stumbling.

I’m a child sometimes who only plays at being grown up. God reminds me that this is true, I am His child, who still very desperately needs a Father to guide me.

I hang up the phone and finally, I can see the floor again. Four trash bags heaved out to the back patio and the weight lifts, as the garbage goes out. Confession clears the conscience,

Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. James 5:16 ESV

When’s the last time you took out your trash?  

Sharing this post in community at Emily’s place.
Spread the word...Share on Facebook0Tweet about this on Twitter0Share on Google+3Email this to someoneShare on LinkedIn0

You Might Also Like

  • Kathi Denfeld

    Amen, Kris.

    • Kris Camealy

      Bless you, sweet Kathi.

  • Jennifer Camp

    I feel so much like a child, too, and that is both hard–and really not so bad. . . not when, like you remind us here, we remember whose child we are. Our weaknesses are opportunities to lean into Him. And yes, we need each other; confession–transparency with one another–is such a gift to our hearts. So thankful for your words here, Kris.

    • Kris Camealy

      Thanks, Jennifer. I appreciate your heart and understanding here. I am SO grateful for you, sharing this journey. XXOO

  • Annie Barnett

    Oh friend, we are walking side by side in this right now. I am right here with you. So much grace to you.

    • Kris Camealy

      Annie, my friend. Praying for you right now. Holding your hand through cyberspace and hoping we can talk soon! Love you.

  • Sarah Caldwell

    This post’s beauty and honesty are so wonderful! I don’t have children, but I too feel buried under the weight of so much…I am so grateful for your writing, and look forward to reading your words! (And it was lovely meeting you at Allume :) Blessings to you today!

    • Kris Camealy

      Bless your heart, Sarah. Hang int here and know without a doubt that god is good and faithful to heart you, to love you through it, and to lift you from it.

  • BrinaHarwood

    That’s me. That’s my life. Less making time for writing and add working full time outside of the home. But, that’s me.
    I feel like a bit of the burden has been lifted by simply reading your post.

    • Kris Camealy

      Brina, praising God for the lifting. Deeply humbled by His goodness. Thankful you stopped by today.

  • rebecca

    He’s moving the world and clearing the clutter….taking out the trash this week…confessing the hard…. receiving deserved silence…. but a clear path back to my Father. That’s where I desire to live.

    • Kris Camealy

      The silence can be such a blessing, I’m craving it these days. Your heart for Him is so beautiful. Love to you, Rebecca, praying for you!

  • Jess @ Life in the White House

    This week I have struggled with every little thing you’ve poured out here….praying for you, for all of us.

    • Kris Camealy

      Jess, thank you for prayers, I am so grateful for you, for the new community I’m finding with the ladder bloggers… Just so grateful. Praying for you too!

  • Ashley @ Draw Near

    How I hear you. This garbage by the bag full, this garbage in my own heart. I, too, am a mama writer stealing time, feeling the tension between the pull to sit and pour out the word blood and the blood-letting of the everyday, mundane — dying to self with these precious beauties. So glad to have found my way here from Imperfect Prose.

    • Kris Camealy

      Ashley, so thankful you understand. There’s strength and encouragement in a community who shares their struggles. None of us can do it without His strength. Praying for you tonight. Thank you for taking the time to comment. You bless me.

  • Jamie H

    I love this post! You’ve shared so eloquently with so few words. Thank you!

  • Yvonne Reynolds

    I think I was doing a lot of trash dumping tonight as I was driving by myself tonight. I am so selfish, but I am so thankful for His forgiveness, so freely given.

  • Trina Holden

    I llove when someone else spells out my life in more poetic sentences than I ever could. And that a phoned confession is how you get through the day sometimes, too

  • Emily Wierenga

    oh girl. i love your heart. i`m a child who plays at grown-up too.

  • lindseyfoj

    I love you friend…wish I could hug you right now!