Is it me, or do emotions get more intense with age? It’s as though the stress and trials of this life intensify them—like tossing dynamite into a hot oven. Sometimes I feel deeply homesick, right here in my home with my family in the same room. It’s an anxious feeling in my heart and I feel the urge to cry, but can’t. Other times I’ll be irritable with my kids simply for being kids. Usually during these “episodes” I find myself in my laundry room, with chocolate, begging the Lord for victory over my emotions. God, I’m failing. I keep walking in the flesh, and not the Spirit. I feel so lonely.

I remind myself I shouldn’t feel this way; I have Jesus, so I’m never truly alone. He is with me. He will never leave me, nor forsake me. All true. So what gives? Why do my emotions and actions betray these truths? I feel a pang of self-condemnation. I’ve been a Christian almost three quarters of my life and should have overcome this by now. I’ve had breathtaking, beautiful times of fellowship with God—my heart full to bursting. I know Jesus is the Answer. When others come to me for support I point them to Him. Not long ago, I texted with a loved one in crisis about God’s unconditional love and plans for her—quite confidently—only to find myself sitting on the floor of my laundry room a few hours later, pondering the same questions. I sat there reading through the texts, being comforted by the Lord as well.

How can I share my faith with others, with my kids, when I have these times of such emptiness or lack of self-control? What happened to the joy of my salvation, and my peace? IF I know He has overcome and my victory is in Him, THEN I shouldn’t have these desperate moments. Jesus didn’t rescue me from the power of darkness and bring me into His kingdom of light for me to live in defeat. He came so my joy would be full. He has a plan and purpose for my life—good plans that glorify Him.

I needed victory once and for all. I had to figure this out, so I started seeking God and searching His Word for answers…for answers within the Answer—and the Truth answered me:

I’m right here.
You took your eyes off Me, and you miss Me.
Return to Me, your First Love.
Know Me. Trust Me. Obey Me.
Abide in Me. Abide in My love.

His words pierced my soul, and it seemed so obvious now. Once again, I’d fallen into the trap of trying to live for Him, to live at all, in my own strength. That never goes well. It leads to spiritual dehydration every time. I’ll spend some time with my Savior, take a big gulp of Living Water, and promptly get distracted with the cares of this life. I’ll spend a few days living off one drink of Water, thinking I’m good to go. Before I know it, I’m in the laundry room: thirsty, muddled, discouraged, crying again, with a bunch of thirsty kids looking for me. Decidedly not good.

“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. I am the Vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing … Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you; abide in My love … These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full.”
–Jesus, John 15:4-5, 9, 11

Abide: to remain; continue; stay.

I may have read a scripture countless times, yet Jesus will shine a light on the passage and whisper to my heart: This…this thing you lack. Those words, “Abide in Me…Abide in My love,” quicken my heart and water my soul—and I know He is wooing me, beckoning me to return and stay with Him, to remain with Him. To remain in His love and bear His fruit, full of joy. He longs to take my hand in His and lead me every moment, by His grace. Sharing His mysteries and pouring His life into me. Knowing me and being known. In my weakness, He is strong. I can do nothing apart from Him. Nothing. And I don’t want to.