I’ve experienced so many changes in the past 5 years. Getting married and moving to a new country during COVID, then getting pregnant not once but twice. Most days, I feel like I don’t have time to think and process my reality, I just have to live it and learn as I go. And then there are times feelings of confusion and panic just hit me – am I really a wife and mom of 2? I reminisce about the easier, simpler, more comfortable, and peaceful days of being single, living with my lovely parents in calm Canada. My heart floods with immense sadness realizing that I’ll never have that again. I grieve knowing that my parents are no longer my primary family, that I’ve lost a best friend in my sister who is not only in a different country but different spiritual reality, and that this chaotic life I have right now is it. I feel stuck, not able to go back, not knowing how to go forward, not able to handle the present. Where can I go? Who can understand? Is this all real? A small voice in my heart says, “Yes. But, Jesus”. A peace that transcends all understanding permeates my entire being as my spirit hears his name, “Jesus”. It is like an anchor, a light amidst the raging storm around me – holding my baby in one hand, cooking pasta with the other, my daughter grabbing onto my legs and repeating “Omma, omma, omma!” My flesh feels as if it will explode but then “Jesus” – I feel his heavenly firm hand secure the core of my being and I find my grounding in his presence. He is the Way. Go to Jesus.

I have this vision every so often and it’s in heaven with all the saints. I see Jesus in the centre and the saints around him to receive their crowns. I am far far away and feel that I probably don’t have any crowns to claim. But then Jesus looks my way and there’s this moment that our eyes are locked. I see his face, so kind, so knowing, like he’s seen everything and knows everything about me, literally everything. He knows the tears I’ve cried and the prayers I’ve prayed alone in my closet. There are no words exchanged, just looking at eachother. And I realize that that is enough. Him looking at me, knowing me, that’s enough. He is my crown. Forever and always.

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

The past 3 weeks in particular have been really tough because Joshua was Sunday messenger, and then he had a 20-page paper due for his specialization course, and today we have a baptism retreat. If J has a long day, so do I. Needless to say, we both snapped at each other very often due to the overwhelming tiredness and stress we felt, albeit in our personal universes. We failed to understand each other, we failed to encourage and appreciate one another. We just failed all around. So many times, my mind went to dark places, regretting having ever chosen this life. Judgement and condemnation fill my heart – first at Joshua, and then at myself, and then even to my kids. I come face to face with my ugliness – it stared back at me like a gigantic monster. In face of it, there is no point to even try to justify myself. I know it – I am sinful, pure sin. There is nothing good in me. I am not worthy or even able in myself to be a wife, mom, or friend let a lone a good wife, mom, or friend. I am unworthy to pray or “disciple” Lebeca. Who am I to diagnose and pray for anyone else? I feel utterly crushed by the weight of my own sin, myself. Is this really me? But then again, I hear, “Yes. But, Jesus.” What a hope I find in this name, Jesus.

Hope. I have been craving for this beautiful thing called hope, and it exists. His name is Jesus. In the wretchedness of the reality of my sin, there is hope. Jesus. The gigantic monster flees in his presence. Jesus. The purity and glory of his light illuminates my dark heart and mind, my entire being. Jesus. How precious his blood, how pure his love, how sure his promises. He is sufficient to save me, yet again.

In all this, I’ve found that there is no there is no one “better” or “worse” or “more spiritual” or “less spiritual”. I tend to think in those terms and so constantly judge myself or others. I still have yet to prove to my husband I am good wife. I still want people in church to see me as some level of spiritual maturity. I want to be validated, approved – somebody, anybody, please just give it to me so I know I’m doing the right and good thing. But that’s just it: I’m not. There is no righteousness in me but his, and there are no “more spiritual” people, just those who have died to themselves and in whom Christ now reigns. We’re nothing and he’s everything. The sooner we realize that we have to just die and disappear for Christ to reign and be exalted in us, the sooner we would do it and taste this marvellous freedom and liberation the gospel gives. As I teach Lebeca (who will get baptized tomorrow) the meaning of death in Christ and rising again with him, the Spirit teaches it to me – “Paulina, die, and you will live.” And then it makes sense, this storm and chaos I’m in. God is doing it. He’s controlling it. He’s allowing it that I might gain a better resurrection in and with Christ. In that, and that alone, I can overcome. In that, I am free from judgment and condemnation, comparison, fatalism. And the only one standing is Jesus. Heaven is an eternity of living in the light of the only One who truly matters. In light of this Christ and his glory, my name, my status, my achievements, they’re nothing. At the same time, my failures, my sins, my weaknesses, are also nothing. It is all covered over by his blood and now it’s just all praise to the King. The power of my death and his resurrection – that is grace, that is truth, that’s eternal life.

Today, in the chaos of my life and reality right now, I pray to heed to the gentle whisper of the Spirit say in my heart of hearts, “Yes. But, Jesus.” I’m a mess, yes. I am sinful, yes. I don’t know about tomorrow, or even today, yes. But, Jesus. There is hope today, tomorrw, forever, always, no matter what because of Jesus. Hallelujah, Amen. 

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you.” (1 Peter 1: 3-4)