I’m going to come right out of the gate and tell you that it is has been one heck of a week.
I felt like my greatest enemy snuck up behind me and took a bat to my knees. I lay crumpled on the ground, whimpering in pain and disbelief, fear gaining more access by the minute, feeling completely out of control.
But then, are we ever really in control?
I refuse to tell you what has actually happened because it is too personal, too fresh, and too painful. I will tell you this, though: my enemy knew the exact spot that would hurt the most.
My thought processes over the last few days have been all over the place. I mean, how much does one person have to face in their lifetime? How much pain is there to endure? What the heck happened to all the promises I have been clinging to, that have been been steadily whispered, chanted, strummed, sung, and roared into my heart, into my soul in very recent months?
I didn’t realize that when you have hit bottom at least once in your life that it was possible to do so again. That there is no statute of limitations on how many times one ends up lying in a heap in their lifetime.
This has been a very intimate attack on my family. Debilitating. At least for now.
I woke in the middle of the night a couple nights ago, and terror seized my heart as the possibility of further destruction entered my mind. I ran into the other room to ensure all was well, and as I climbed back into bed, I trembled as I told God that if this got any worse, particularly after all the recent promises I’d been hearing from Him, that I just didn’t think I could be His anymore. It would be too much.
Yeah, I went there.
In the morning I felt like a wet rag, completely devoid of hope, strength or motivation for anything beyond getting kids fed. Once I had them off to school I sat and knew I needed to continue my conversation with the One & Only.
Before I got anywhere, my ears picked up the sounds of Hannah’s radio still playing the local Christian radio station, and the song was reminding me of Who it is I was about to speak to.
And I repented. Meaning that not only did I say I was sorry, but I switched gears. Changed how I was thinking.
Because I remembered that He is God and I am not.
You can call bullshit if you want, but this is how it is.
After navigating over a decade of pent-up grief over the death of my infant son; after 20 years of learning how to love and successfully raise a daughter with special needs; feeling trapped in a loveless, warped, dysfunctional marriage for over twenty years and then finding the guts to walk away and live through divorce; figuring out how to love and support my children who live with anxiety… I suppose one could chalk these things up as life’s occurrences and – hey – no one is immune.
This was an attack.
But God Does Not Change.
Jesus warns us that there will be trouble in this world. The God who loves us so much that He made a way for us to have relationship with Him through the death and resurrection of His Son, allows for us to exercise choices.
So, in allowing this… there are often repercussions. Consequences.
People choosing poorly.
Doing bad shit.
And we can get caught in the crossfire.
Yeah, I pray every damn day for protection over my family. And I was pretty ticked off when it “didn’t work”.
You know what? I forgot that prayer isn’t a lucky charm. GOD is not my lucky charm.
What God is though, is my Savior.
The One who fixes things, even though I wish to hell there was nothing to be fixed in the first place.
He is my Redeemer.
He is my Recompense.
The One who Loves me most. And its deeper, wider, longer, and higher than I can possibly know.
So what now?
Well, hear me on this.
God Does Not Change.
He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
He is good.
He brings beauty out of ashes. Joy out of mourning.
HE will restore what has been taken. What has been lost.
And multiply it.
Today I will stand.
Not out of my strength, but out of His.
He has infused me with His strength, reminding me that the battle is His, and He is already victorious.
He has reminded me that He has called me. That His hand is upon me, upon my children, and that they will indeed taste and see that He is good.
Because He Is Real.
And He doesn’t mess around.
He is not happy about this turn of events, but His hand is upon us, and there will be moments where we will say: “Wow! Look at God!”
Yes, there are giants in this land. But my God goes before us, He comes behind us, and His hand of blessing is upon our heads.
No weapon formed against us shall prosper, and though the winds may blow, we will not fall down.
He’s made me to be a bad-ass for Him. I am unique, called, and dearly loved.
But it is He that will bring the goodness around.
Not by might, not by power, but by MY spirit says the Lord. (Zechariah 4:6)
Here’s what I want to say to you:
Life can really throw some wing-dingers.
But you are not trapped.
You are not without hope.
You are important.
And you need to see that.
God is bigger than the stuff you’re in.
He sees it.
He sees you.
And He loves you and wants to work good out of it all.
He will if you let Him.
Take it from somebody who’s been through some garbage, and finds herself there again.
Except this time I see God walking with me. I feel His power. I hear His words of strength. Of encouragement. Of direction.
You are made for more than this.
I’m calling you to rise up.
Its better up here.
– love love