Widow's mite

I feel like in the last few weeks there have been many things that I have wanted to sit down and blog about, but I have done none of them. As I reflect back on some of it now I don't know where to start. I don't even know if I really feel like walking back through the last month of my life and putting words to it. I don't feel like being vulnerable. I don't feel like sharing where I have journeyed through. There is so much on my heart that I feel like I should have some sort of outline to follow before I start trying to type this; otherwise I think that I may just aimlessly ramble on and on.
Ramble.
That is probably what this is going to be.
Processing.
Sorting through all the things that I should have taken the time to sort through as they happened rather than waiting for three weeks later to put words to.

In the past 4 months I have come to a place where it has felt like everything I have ever known has been ripped out from under me time and time again. I can't even begin to count the number of times that I have looked up at the sky and screamed "God, you have already taken everything away from me, what more do you want?!" Each time that I feel like I have given every last penny that I have to God, I turn around and sigh with relief... only to realize that I have one more coin to put in the box.

And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

In the past few weeks, I have found my self very much able to relate to this woman. Maybe I haven't given the last cent that I have to my name to God, but definitely emotionally I have. I have sat on the floor of my room, behind the wheel of my car, and in the corner of the nursery day after day sobbing, telling God I don't know how I am going to make it. I have given you everything God, and this is terrifying. And then He asks for everything again. I drop the coin in the box. I turn and walk away, trusting that he has me... and then I look down and see another coin. I turn back again and place it in the box. I turn and walk away again. Again, I look down and realize there's another coin. 

This cycle has gone on for weeks. It's a daily surrender. It's a daily letting go of everything that I have known. It's a daily trust that He's got me. I don't have much to offer him, but what I do have is His. No matter how terrifying. I know He's got me. 

There is so much more that I can write. So much more that I can say. So much that I will say. Just not at this moment. Not in this post.