There I sat, on the floor, against the wall of my bathroom, head in my knees, once again, sobbing relentlessly. I could no longer control myself. This was too regular. I knew no way to stop. Frankly, I didn’t want to stop. This emotion was the only one which I could feel. It was raw. It was real. Everything else seemed like a mere day dream and I was only floating through the motions of life.
My precious husband walked in and handed me a necklace. He said,
“I’ve carried you as far as I can carry you, now God has to carry you.”
I looked at the necklace. Its charm held the image of two little feet and Isaiah 46:4:
“Even to your old age and gray hairs, I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”
I had a one year old son who was precious. I had a great job, a great life. I had a house, a new car, I was free to do virtually whatever I wanted. My husband loved me very much. From the outside looking in I had it all. Yes, I had lost a baby during pregnancy a few months before, but so many get over it so quickly! I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t one of those women, why did I not even want to be one of those women…who could move on. I lived in a house of cards, desperately hoping the slightest breeze wouldn’t come and my world would crash around me…again… I found myself in the wake of a storm of life, picking up the pieces in the aftermath, in vain, fruitless, void of all things good. Life seemed meaningless. I was stuck.
I needed a rescue.
I needed a hero to ride in valiantly on his white horse, a fearless knight to swing me up on the back of his steed, then carry me to his castle to live forever. I was about to get just that.
I cried out to the One who made me. I couldn’t do this anymore. I had so much to live for. I was needed. I was damaging the relationships I had. I was detrimental to the people who loved me most.
“God, save me!” I cried. “ I need you Jesus! Come and rescue me! Save me from myself! Save me from the hurt and the bitterness! Deliver me from this anguish! I have tried this on my own and it just isn’t working. I know there is more for me. Sustain me like you say you will! Make me who you want me to be through this!”
And he did.
It was ugly, but beautiful all at the same time. It was treacherous, but blissful, serene yet chaotic. I spent the next years crying out to my Savior, resting in the deliverance he was providing. I sat in my bathroom, my back yard, my car, my kitchen table, where ever the event happened to hit, sobbing, crying out to my Creator the things in my heart I so desperately wanted him to heal. There was always Kleenex by us at church, but at this point I didn’t mind one bit using my sleeve. I cried during most worship opportunities I experienced in that season. It was truly terrible but so, so stunning. I don’t know that there are human words to describe the process. In the quiet he would come to me. He would wrap his arms around me. He would minister to my heart. He compelled me to draw nearer to him. He called out for me. He gave peace in the middle of unrest, and I would fall arms open, face-first into the chest of a precious Savior. The more I poured out to him the better I came to know him. The more I came to know him the more I wanted to know him. He made himself evident to me in the small things, a smile from my son, the beauty of a flower, a sunset, the beauty in his glorious creation. During that time I came to really take hold of the fact that his Word was true and I could fully trust in the God of the universe. I had given it lip service for years and years, but I neglected to fully embrace the God of the promises he had laid out in his Word. I was too busy trying to survive on my own.
He never, ever left (and still hasn’t), no matter how terrible I was to deal with. He never turned his back. He never needed a break. When others could not bear my burden, because my burden was never meant for humans to bear, he gladly took up my troubles, my chains that I was not ready for him to release me of, and walked with me. Those times are precious to me. Yes, so much pain, but yes, so, so much love from a precious Daddy.
Healing is usually a process. It seems the times you realize you’re healing is when you look back down the long traveled road and realize just how far you have come.
I often pray for God to wrap his arms around people. I pray this because I know how it feels. It is better than any drink, any drug, any promiscuity, or any earthly relationship, and I desperately desire for every person I encounter to experience that precious time with their Maker.
I could go on forever about this season. I am so thankful for it. Its experience was invaluable, to really learn more of who our Abba Father is, how he operates, and just how much he truly loves us. To really lean in to him, just as he wanted, was/is a priceless experience.
Our Savior used that season in my journey to pave the way to bring healing to other areas of my life, to learn to offer forgiveness in several aspects, even those which had not come to light just yet, those that had already happened but I never realized I harbored. He broke the chains that bound me and kept me from a closer relationship with him. He used this time to amplify the precious spiritual gifts he has blessed me with.
It was precious to me, to learn that, no matter the circumstance He will walk with me through it. I used to live in fear of things that could come. Now I know, beyond any shadow of doubt, regardless of the trial I face, I have a friend, a Comforter, who knows my pain even better that I know it myself. That relationship does not release me from suffering, but it grants me peace, and the knowledge that my Father holds me all along the way.
Focus not on the pain. Focus on the hero, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, who always comes to the rescue. Friends, He will be faithful. He will always be faithful.
Romans 8:18-21: I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed . For the creation was subjected to frustration, not its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.
Romans 8:37-39: No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
You know what, just read all of Romans 8…
Love you all,
Trista
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