Our days are filled with everything under the sun. A busy 2-year-old. A constant job search. A broken wrist for Jason. Painting & repairing our home in order to list it for sale. Never-ending paperwork and "business" to take care of as we navigate the waters of unemployment and rearranging our lives. A pregnancy that's already resulted in three trips to the hospital with complications. Sickness, infection, and exhaustion. Soul exhaustion.
These things, these events, keep my body busy and my mind distracted. Yet, the grief of losing my brother still hangs over us like a heavy cloud that doesn't plan on disintegrating anytime soon. The busyness of our life is, frankly, overwhelming. I spend my days thinking about what everyone around me needs, and I'm getting pretty bad at taking care of myself.
As is common for me, I have a song on my mind. This time it's "Waking Life" by Schuyler Fisk. It's a song that I randomly stumbled upon, having never heard of the artist before. The chorus reads as follows:"I'm not lost, just looking for footprints. I'm taking it one step at a time, and I'm getting by. But by the way, it's you on my mind. It's you on my mind."
Sometimes, I feel as if I'm on the brink of being lost, but my Savior keeps me hanging on. I have to take it all a step at a time; I can't handle anything more. I can't help but look for those footprints, though: evidence that I'm still walking, still breathing. And my footprints are not alone. I remember walking on the beach with Jason and Cale in December, only two weeks after losing my brother. I remember looking at our footprints in the sand and just taking in the three different sets: the footprints that are walking the same journey as I am. At the thought of those footprints, I am entrenched with thankfulness of my husband and our precious son. Sadly, in the same breath, I am reminded so quickly that they could be taken so suddenly, and I can't do anything to protect them. The fears plague my dreams; the weight of the reality of my forever-altered family tortures my days.
Try as I may, there is no making sense of this. The road we walk in faith is more littered with obstacles than ever before as we seek to understand with our human emotions the whys of life. So, I am left with a choice. I can turn and walk away and choose to muddle through the pain and tears alone, or I can cling to the One who has promised that it makes sense to Him. I can give the enemy the satisfaction of watching me walk in fear, or I can crawl and struggle, but lean into the One who will one day take all of my fears away. I've given up on pretending to be happy, but I can honestly say that God still protects the joy that deeply resides in my heart. Sure, it's a little buried right now, but it's still there. He is my joy, and He cannot be taken away. He's the only one, but I have that promise.
And so, we take it a day at a time, and we're getting by. But, Ryan, you're still on my mind. I'm still heartbroken that I couldn't tell you "I love you" one more time. I don't think that's going to change until I see you again, but see you again I will. Until then, baby brother, we know you're in Perfect hands, and for that we are thankful.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Grief
On December 10th, I woke up to a phone call that changed my world. When I realized that my dad had been trying to call since 4:30 in the morning, I knew immediately that something was wrong, but I never imagined the magnitude of what he had to tell me that day. When he told me that my younger brother Ryan (age 24) had been killed in a car accident, I didn't fully understand what he was saying. I remember asking, "My brother, Ryan?" thinking surely I was mistaken. I remember asking to speak to my mom, but my brain seemed to kind of shut down. I started to hyperventilate, and I remember telling her I needed to go wake Jason up, that I needed to go breathe. Breathe. By the time I made it to Jason, I don't even know what I said. I know that he jumped up to hold me, and I know that I would have hit the floor had he not been there. The rest of the morning was a blur of trying to pack and get to the Upstate, and my brain simply seemed to be frozen. I couldn't remember what day of the week it was or what I needed to pack for the trip. It was as if everything inside of me just stopped, though I knew I had to keep moving, keep breathing.
Two weeks have passed since that early Saturday morning. I can't even begin to recount the number of times I've had to repeat to myself "Just breathe," over those two weeks. There are moments when I'm busy with Cale or watching a show or movie when I fall numb again, but the moments of numbness are becoming increasingly rare. The moments of the reality of the loss are becoming increasingly frequent. The shock is beginning to fade, and I'm left with the hole that seems completely overwhelming. A permanent hole in my family. A brother who adored my son, and my son will never even remember him. My 2nd child will never even meet him. A brother who still called me "Sissy." A brother who, from all human standpoints, should be here with us celebrating Christmas this year.
I'm learning a lot about grieving-- the process that takes much longer than any of us would like to believe. I'm learning that although my faith in the Lord has not been shaken (indeed, I have known His grace more fully than ever before over the last two weeks), it's still okay to cry. It's still okay to be broken. It's still okay to feel as though I might just fall apart. God's big enough to handle all of our brokenness combined. It's fully permissible to admit that none of this feels "okay" right now. Nothing about having a drunk driver (who, for the record, already had 2 DUIs this year) murder your baby brother is okay. It simply isn't.
And yet. There is a yet. I know, that with time, God will heal these wounds. I know that we won't ever feel like our family is whole again; I'm not that naive. I know that it's quite possible that next December 10th will be just as hard as this past one was. But I know that it's not hard for Ryan. He's no longer bound by time, no longer chained by human pain, sadness, or weakness of any type. Instead, he's kind of the lucky one among us, the one who will celebrate Christmas at Home this year. That's the only joy that keeps us going, that keeps us moving through each day-- even the days that pass so very slowly.
I'm falling apart.
I'm barely breathing.
With a broken heart
that's still beating.
In the pain,
there is healing.
In Your name,
I find meaning.
That's an excerpt from a Lifehouse song called "Broken." It seems to play on repeat in my mind these days. I'm pretty good at being tough on the outside, but the inside is pretty broken right now. I'm not afraid to admit that. I'm holding on, but sometimes my grip isn't all that great. The good news is that my Father's grip is unrelenting. He hasn't let us go.
I write all of this tonight, not to sadden anyone on Christmas Eve, but to simply share that even in the midst of deep, deep pain, there is Hope. We have hope because of what we celebrate each Christmas-- the birth of the One who gives us peace, who redeems our sin, who promises us a future. I have to be honest-- I wouldn't have chosen the way the last couple of months have panned out. I wouldn't have chosen for Jason to lose his job, to have a seriously difficult and complicated pregnancy, and to lose my brother. But, I do choose to continue to follow the Lord who knew every detail of all of this ahead of time and still allowed us to endure it. I know that His love is fierce; I know that I can trust Him to give us brighter days.
"I'm holding on another day, just to see what You will throw my way. I'm holding on to what You said. You said that I will be okay."
Two weeks have passed since that early Saturday morning. I can't even begin to recount the number of times I've had to repeat to myself "Just breathe," over those two weeks. There are moments when I'm busy with Cale or watching a show or movie when I fall numb again, but the moments of numbness are becoming increasingly rare. The moments of the reality of the loss are becoming increasingly frequent. The shock is beginning to fade, and I'm left with the hole that seems completely overwhelming. A permanent hole in my family. A brother who adored my son, and my son will never even remember him. My 2nd child will never even meet him. A brother who still called me "Sissy." A brother who, from all human standpoints, should be here with us celebrating Christmas this year.
I'm learning a lot about grieving-- the process that takes much longer than any of us would like to believe. I'm learning that although my faith in the Lord has not been shaken (indeed, I have known His grace more fully than ever before over the last two weeks), it's still okay to cry. It's still okay to be broken. It's still okay to feel as though I might just fall apart. God's big enough to handle all of our brokenness combined. It's fully permissible to admit that none of this feels "okay" right now. Nothing about having a drunk driver (who, for the record, already had 2 DUIs this year) murder your baby brother is okay. It simply isn't.
And yet. There is a yet. I know, that with time, God will heal these wounds. I know that we won't ever feel like our family is whole again; I'm not that naive. I know that it's quite possible that next December 10th will be just as hard as this past one was. But I know that it's not hard for Ryan. He's no longer bound by time, no longer chained by human pain, sadness, or weakness of any type. Instead, he's kind of the lucky one among us, the one who will celebrate Christmas at Home this year. That's the only joy that keeps us going, that keeps us moving through each day-- even the days that pass so very slowly.
I'm falling apart.
I'm barely breathing.
With a broken heart
that's still beating.
In the pain,
there is healing.
In Your name,
I find meaning.
That's an excerpt from a Lifehouse song called "Broken." It seems to play on repeat in my mind these days. I'm pretty good at being tough on the outside, but the inside is pretty broken right now. I'm not afraid to admit that. I'm holding on, but sometimes my grip isn't all that great. The good news is that my Father's grip is unrelenting. He hasn't let us go.
I write all of this tonight, not to sadden anyone on Christmas Eve, but to simply share that even in the midst of deep, deep pain, there is Hope. We have hope because of what we celebrate each Christmas-- the birth of the One who gives us peace, who redeems our sin, who promises us a future. I have to be honest-- I wouldn't have chosen the way the last couple of months have panned out. I wouldn't have chosen for Jason to lose his job, to have a seriously difficult and complicated pregnancy, and to lose my brother. But, I do choose to continue to follow the Lord who knew every detail of all of this ahead of time and still allowed us to endure it. I know that His love is fierce; I know that I can trust Him to give us brighter days.
"I'm holding on another day, just to see what You will throw my way. I'm holding on to what You said. You said that I will be okay."
Friday, November 18, 2011
The Love of God
Just wanted to post the lyrics to a song that's been incredibly encouraging to me over the last few days. God has undoubtedly shown me the reality of His love in a more tangible way during the hardest times of my life. This song, written by a man who wasn't unfamiliar with suffering, expresses that well.
About six months ago, my mentor challenged me about my thoughts on the goodness of God. At the time, I was struggling through a specific battle, and though I knew in my head that God is good regardless of circumstances, when I really confronted my heart, I realized that even though I believed in God's complete goodness, I sometimes wondered if "goodness" to us as individuals may be sacrificed for the greater good. In other words, I wondered if what was happening to me was really for my best.
To be perfectly honest, it took me several months of serious self-evaulation and meditating on Scripture to know beyond all doubt that I was to the point of confidence in God's goodness.
And so, with no doubt, I can write today that my God is completely and wholly good, in times of abundance and in times of want. We are so thankful for the outpouring of love and encouragement for our family over the last couple of weeks, and we are continually trusting God to direct our steps! Here's the song:
"The Love of God"-- Rich Mullins
There's a wideness in God's mercy
I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning
To melt this heart of stone
Keeps me aching with a yearning
Keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God
Now I've seen no band of angels
But I've heard the soldiers' songs
Love hangs over them like a banner
Love within them leads them on
To the battle on the journey
And it's never gonna stop
Ever widening their mercies
And the fury of His love
Oh the love of God
Lyrics www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/rich_mullins/
And oh the love of God
The love of God
Joy and sorrow are this ocean
And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all Hell could never close
Here I'm tested and made worthy
Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God
About six months ago, my mentor challenged me about my thoughts on the goodness of God. At the time, I was struggling through a specific battle, and though I knew in my head that God is good regardless of circumstances, when I really confronted my heart, I realized that even though I believed in God's complete goodness, I sometimes wondered if "goodness" to us as individuals may be sacrificed for the greater good. In other words, I wondered if what was happening to me was really for my best.
To be perfectly honest, it took me several months of serious self-evaulation and meditating on Scripture to know beyond all doubt that I was to the point of confidence in God's goodness.
And so, with no doubt, I can write today that my God is completely and wholly good, in times of abundance and in times of want. We are so thankful for the outpouring of love and encouragement for our family over the last couple of weeks, and we are continually trusting God to direct our steps! Here's the song:
"The Love of God"-- Rich Mullins
There's a wideness in God's mercy
I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning
To melt this heart of stone
Keeps me aching with a yearning
Keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God
Now I've seen no band of angels
But I've heard the soldiers' songs
Love hangs over them like a banner
Love within them leads them on
To the battle on the journey
And it's never gonna stop
Ever widening their mercies
And the fury of His love
Oh the love of God
Lyrics www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/rich_mullins/
And oh the love of God
The love of God
Joy and sorrow are this ocean
And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all Hell could never close
Here I'm tested and made worthy
Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Walking Away
In recent months, I've been sad to hear stories of and speak to some friends who have chosen to walk away from their faith for various reasons. Some were "enlightened" by others who they deem intellectually superior and thus decided that they must have been naive to believe in this so called faith in Jesus. Others, simply walked away due to life circumstances that didn't add up to support a theory of believing in a "good God who wouldn't do this or allow this if He loved me." Still others walked away after watching others who claim to be believers live lives that so blatantly do not attest to walking with a Savior.
Regardless of the reasons for which these individuals have chosen to walk away from their faith, my heart breaks over the victory that has been handed to the prince of light. It may be hard to believe, but there are actually intellectual Christians out there who know why we believe what we believe, who can defend the Truth tooth and nail over the lies that society feeds us. There are some of us who, though we continually mess up, cling to forgivness and grace and long to live like Christ, ever-changing, ever-loving more. There are some of us who don't want to argue over facts but who would LOVE to sit down and have a loving, patient conversation with someone struggling about why we have NO doubt that our faith is grounded in the one and only Truth that exists to guide our world.
When I was in college, I became passionate about learning why I believe what I believe. I do not believe what I believe because someone told me to do it. I don't do it to make myself feel better or to improve my view of the world. In fact, how could comparing myself with a holy God possibly make me feel good? When I see my own sinfulness in comparison with His holiness, I certainly don't feel good about it. I feel humbled. I feel loved. I know with certainty that I don't deserve His grace. My faith is not a made-up paradigm of thought which I choose to operate from because of how it makes me feel. My faith is an active pursuit of the God of the universe because I have studied the facts. I have examined the evidence. I know that science supports Creation, not evolution. I know that evolution is in fact a scientic impossibility. I also know that in the darkest of struggles and the deepest of hurts, my God is there. I have not created a sentimental, gushy God who rushes to my every whim or with whom I can be angry every time something doesn't go my way. I long to understand more and more every day about who God really is. I long to study Scripture for what it really says, to understand the Hebrew and the Greek, to not take verses out of context to make them fit my personal agenda. I know that beyond any doubt, the Bible is the most well-documented book in all of history. I know that is has stood the test of time, that we have more original manuscripts of Scripture than we do for some of the very history books that everyone accepts as "fact" in our education system.
I write all of this to encourage believers and non-believers alike: study the facts of why you believe what you believe. It takes a lot more faith to believe in an evolutionary process that randomly put us on this earth than it takes to understand the Creator who lovingly made us and desires to know us. I will never cram my faith down someone's throat, but I will pray that your eyes will be open to truth. I will continually pray that God will give believers the desire to study apologetics, to choose to not be ignorant to the facts of our faith. In the same way, I'll pray for non-believers to not be ignorant to the same facts and to not get lost in fruitless arguments about why they believe Scripture is contradictory (it isn't, by the way. When you've studied the Greek and Hebrew, you'll understand that) or about how a good God could never do whatever it is they've struggled with. God is holy. He is set apart from us. Hell doesn't exist because God is mean; hell exists because our sinfulness cannot exist in the presence of His holiness. That's why He offers us forgiveness through the grace of His Son, Jesus.
My heart breaks over those walking away. I know that life isn't pretty, and I know that sometimes it's easy to feel forgotten. But I also know that God can handle my questions, and He can handle my fears. When I examine everything around me, there's no way that I could ever doubt my faith in Him. He's the only reason my heart continues to beat.
If you read this and have any questions as to what evidence I have for my faith, please ask me and I'll be more than happy to share. :)
Regardless of the reasons for which these individuals have chosen to walk away from their faith, my heart breaks over the victory that has been handed to the prince of light. It may be hard to believe, but there are actually intellectual Christians out there who know why we believe what we believe, who can defend the Truth tooth and nail over the lies that society feeds us. There are some of us who, though we continually mess up, cling to forgivness and grace and long to live like Christ, ever-changing, ever-loving more. There are some of us who don't want to argue over facts but who would LOVE to sit down and have a loving, patient conversation with someone struggling about why we have NO doubt that our faith is grounded in the one and only Truth that exists to guide our world.
When I was in college, I became passionate about learning why I believe what I believe. I do not believe what I believe because someone told me to do it. I don't do it to make myself feel better or to improve my view of the world. In fact, how could comparing myself with a holy God possibly make me feel good? When I see my own sinfulness in comparison with His holiness, I certainly don't feel good about it. I feel humbled. I feel loved. I know with certainty that I don't deserve His grace. My faith is not a made-up paradigm of thought which I choose to operate from because of how it makes me feel. My faith is an active pursuit of the God of the universe because I have studied the facts. I have examined the evidence. I know that science supports Creation, not evolution. I know that evolution is in fact a scientic impossibility. I also know that in the darkest of struggles and the deepest of hurts, my God is there. I have not created a sentimental, gushy God who rushes to my every whim or with whom I can be angry every time something doesn't go my way. I long to understand more and more every day about who God really is. I long to study Scripture for what it really says, to understand the Hebrew and the Greek, to not take verses out of context to make them fit my personal agenda. I know that beyond any doubt, the Bible is the most well-documented book in all of history. I know that is has stood the test of time, that we have more original manuscripts of Scripture than we do for some of the very history books that everyone accepts as "fact" in our education system.
I write all of this to encourage believers and non-believers alike: study the facts of why you believe what you believe. It takes a lot more faith to believe in an evolutionary process that randomly put us on this earth than it takes to understand the Creator who lovingly made us and desires to know us. I will never cram my faith down someone's throat, but I will pray that your eyes will be open to truth. I will continually pray that God will give believers the desire to study apologetics, to choose to not be ignorant to the facts of our faith. In the same way, I'll pray for non-believers to not be ignorant to the same facts and to not get lost in fruitless arguments about why they believe Scripture is contradictory (it isn't, by the way. When you've studied the Greek and Hebrew, you'll understand that) or about how a good God could never do whatever it is they've struggled with. God is holy. He is set apart from us. Hell doesn't exist because God is mean; hell exists because our sinfulness cannot exist in the presence of His holiness. That's why He offers us forgiveness through the grace of His Son, Jesus.
My heart breaks over those walking away. I know that life isn't pretty, and I know that sometimes it's easy to feel forgotten. But I also know that God can handle my questions, and He can handle my fears. When I examine everything around me, there's no way that I could ever doubt my faith in Him. He's the only reason my heart continues to beat.
If you read this and have any questions as to what evidence I have for my faith, please ask me and I'll be more than happy to share. :)
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Heart Abandoned
A line in a favorite worship song of mine says, "And I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned in awe of the One who gave it all." This week, God has been showing me a little bit about what it means to live with my heart abandoned to Him. Do I really trust Him to the extent that I fully surrender my heart-- all of my feelings, emotions, and fears--to His hands to hold? When circumstances tempt me to doubt His goodness, even His faithfulness, I find that if I only abandon my heart to Him, I can leave those fears and doubts behind. Abandonment. Easy to sing, but very hard to live.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Mother's Day
As I approach my second Mother's Day of being a mom, I find myself frequently contemplating the myriad of things that being a mom has taught me. Here are just a few of the simple ones that have really changed my perspective on life.
*Unconditional love looks a lot different than I previously thought. If I offer my son hugs, kisses, grace, and patience on a daily basis simply because I love him so dearly, that love should overflow to the other people in my life as well. God loves me with that love, and He commands that I love others with it, too. This has serious implications for my life as a believer, as a wife, as a daughter, as a friend, etc. I love Cale simply because he is Cale; how convicting that I don't do the same for others.
*Sometimes, I just have to get through one day at a time. God gives me the grace to do that. I cannot worry about what tomorrow will bring and whether it will be easier or harder than today.
* I need to enjoy the moments of every day- make the most of every opportunity. This doesn't only apply to motherhood, but all the other areas of life as well. Why get mad at someone in a store or restaurant? Why stay frustrated with my husband over something stupid? Life is absolutely full of opportunities to demonstrate that God is bigger than the small things that go wrong throughout the day.
*To quote a line from one of my favorite songs, "In the pain, there is healing. In Your Name, there is meaning." This one is HUGE. Being pregnant was miserable for me-- not to mention the C-Section, 4 day hospital stay, and subsequent infection that kept me in pain for weeks. And then of course, the nights without more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep until Cale was six months old. And the heart surgery that was necessitated by the pregnancy. Yet, none of those things matter to me anymore. That precious little boy who's sleeping in his crib right now, has been a tool to heal so many deep wounds that felt as if they'd be permanent in our hearts. As I've alluded to in previous blogs, there have been some dark days for us in the last several years. Cale has been an incredible reminder that our God is a penetrating Light. ("You, oh Lord, keep my lamp burning. My God turns my darkness into light."- Psalm 18:28).
*Cale doesn't actually belong to us. He belongs to the Lord. He has since before he was created, and our parenting must reflect that. Every decision we make should be based in God's Word, sought out in prayer, and communicated in love.
*It's ironic that when Cale whines to me over and over and over, clinging to my legs, crying "Mama" repeatedly, I get a little frazzled and impatient. It's ironic because I'm sure my Heavenly Father would be delighted if I clung to Him more closely and cried out for His help more frequently.
*Laughter and flexibility go a long way, and I didn't know half of what I thought I knew about being Mommy. :)
*Unconditional love looks a lot different than I previously thought. If I offer my son hugs, kisses, grace, and patience on a daily basis simply because I love him so dearly, that love should overflow to the other people in my life as well. God loves me with that love, and He commands that I love others with it, too. This has serious implications for my life as a believer, as a wife, as a daughter, as a friend, etc. I love Cale simply because he is Cale; how convicting that I don't do the same for others.
*Sometimes, I just have to get through one day at a time. God gives me the grace to do that. I cannot worry about what tomorrow will bring and whether it will be easier or harder than today.
* I need to enjoy the moments of every day- make the most of every opportunity. This doesn't only apply to motherhood, but all the other areas of life as well. Why get mad at someone in a store or restaurant? Why stay frustrated with my husband over something stupid? Life is absolutely full of opportunities to demonstrate that God is bigger than the small things that go wrong throughout the day.
*To quote a line from one of my favorite songs, "In the pain, there is healing. In Your Name, there is meaning." This one is HUGE. Being pregnant was miserable for me-- not to mention the C-Section, 4 day hospital stay, and subsequent infection that kept me in pain for weeks. And then of course, the nights without more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep until Cale was six months old. And the heart surgery that was necessitated by the pregnancy. Yet, none of those things matter to me anymore. That precious little boy who's sleeping in his crib right now, has been a tool to heal so many deep wounds that felt as if they'd be permanent in our hearts. As I've alluded to in previous blogs, there have been some dark days for us in the last several years. Cale has been an incredible reminder that our God is a penetrating Light. ("You, oh Lord, keep my lamp burning. My God turns my darkness into light."- Psalm 18:28).
*Cale doesn't actually belong to us. He belongs to the Lord. He has since before he was created, and our parenting must reflect that. Every decision we make should be based in God's Word, sought out in prayer, and communicated in love.
*It's ironic that when Cale whines to me over and over and over, clinging to my legs, crying "Mama" repeatedly, I get a little frazzled and impatient. It's ironic because I'm sure my Heavenly Father would be delighted if I clung to Him more closely and cried out for His help more frequently.
*Laughter and flexibility go a long way, and I didn't know half of what I thought I knew about being Mommy. :)
Friday, April 1, 2011
Made Whole
Today, Jason and I were blessed to spend the afternoon at Riverbanks Zoo here in Columbia with Cale. We bought a season pass last month, so we're making the most of it and going as often as possible! Since Cale has been a couple of times in the last month, instead of looking at animals today, he mostly wanted to run everywhere-- really fast-- not at all concerned with who or what was around him. We spent the afternoon chasing him around the zoo, laughing at his priceless giggle, and just enjoying being a family. He did pause long enough to laugh at the gorilla eating plants, to wrinkle up his nose and make ugly faces at the stinky elephants, and to study a crowned crane very seriously for a minute or two. Cale brings us so much joy; he's definitely living proof of God's graciousness to us (hence his middle name Jackson, meaning "God is gracious").
The last week has been full of interesting moments: the ones that cause me to really stop and ponder the deeper things of life, the ones that make me so keenly aware of God's hand at work. These moments have mostly been unpleasant ones, and yet they have not been void of God's grace. Tonight, as I drove home from running an errand, it occurred to me just how differently I view life today than I did a year ago. Without going into any extravagant details, it suffices to say that a year ago, I was pretty devastated over several of our life circumstances. Jason and I were disheartened about some things that had been part of our journey, and while he was handling things quite well emotionally given those circumstances, I was falling apart. I was on the verge of a complete break down, and I had no idea how to find the way out. I cried out to God daily, but I was so completely entrenched in darkness that I just couldn't find my foothold. I remember crying all of the time and telling Jason that I didn't know if I could ever be "whole" again. My faith in God hadn't changed, but I was so deeply wounded that I just couldn't imagine what healing would feel like.
Now, most of you who know me know that I'm quite independent and don't really enjoy listening to advice. Thankfully, Jason (as those of you who know him know) is even more stubborn than I am! Ha. God used Jason's insistence to push me into counseling with an awesome biblical counselor who began to help me find my footing again. I didn't meet with her for too long, but it was the beginning of the healing process.
To shorten a long story, tonight I realized that I am definitely whole again. I am wholly Lauren, daughter of God, wife of Jason, mommy of Cale. The most amazing part of the journey over the last year is that NONE of our circumstances have changed! All of the things that I thought I needed to happen in order for me to be okay again-- none of them have happened. Yet, God has diligently worked on me, day after day. He has patiently loved on me and taught me what it really means to follow! I don't feel the need to figure out "who I am" anymore; I don't have the desire to know what His long-term plan for my life is. I'm simply content. I'm delighting in his love, I'm delighting in my husband, and in my little boy.
Honestly, I couldn't have imagined being so content. He's completely changed everything-- all without changing a thing. So, I can rest in the peace of knowing that He is continually sovereign and loving, and I can without any doubt know that I BELIEVE that circumstances do not dictate who my God is. Whew. Took me a while to get here.. and I know that next week, even tomorrow, may bring circumstances that again challenge me and set me back, but I know that He will keep loving me and keep pursuing me with whispers of beckoning.
The last week has been full of interesting moments: the ones that cause me to really stop and ponder the deeper things of life, the ones that make me so keenly aware of God's hand at work. These moments have mostly been unpleasant ones, and yet they have not been void of God's grace. Tonight, as I drove home from running an errand, it occurred to me just how differently I view life today than I did a year ago. Without going into any extravagant details, it suffices to say that a year ago, I was pretty devastated over several of our life circumstances. Jason and I were disheartened about some things that had been part of our journey, and while he was handling things quite well emotionally given those circumstances, I was falling apart. I was on the verge of a complete break down, and I had no idea how to find the way out. I cried out to God daily, but I was so completely entrenched in darkness that I just couldn't find my foothold. I remember crying all of the time and telling Jason that I didn't know if I could ever be "whole" again. My faith in God hadn't changed, but I was so deeply wounded that I just couldn't imagine what healing would feel like.
Now, most of you who know me know that I'm quite independent and don't really enjoy listening to advice. Thankfully, Jason (as those of you who know him know) is even more stubborn than I am! Ha. God used Jason's insistence to push me into counseling with an awesome biblical counselor who began to help me find my footing again. I didn't meet with her for too long, but it was the beginning of the healing process.
To shorten a long story, tonight I realized that I am definitely whole again. I am wholly Lauren, daughter of God, wife of Jason, mommy of Cale. The most amazing part of the journey over the last year is that NONE of our circumstances have changed! All of the things that I thought I needed to happen in order for me to be okay again-- none of them have happened. Yet, God has diligently worked on me, day after day. He has patiently loved on me and taught me what it really means to follow! I don't feel the need to figure out "who I am" anymore; I don't have the desire to know what His long-term plan for my life is. I'm simply content. I'm delighting in his love, I'm delighting in my husband, and in my little boy.
Honestly, I couldn't have imagined being so content. He's completely changed everything-- all without changing a thing. So, I can rest in the peace of knowing that He is continually sovereign and loving, and I can without any doubt know that I BELIEVE that circumstances do not dictate who my God is. Whew. Took me a while to get here.. and I know that next week, even tomorrow, may bring circumstances that again challenge me and set me back, but I know that He will keep loving me and keep pursuing me with whispers of beckoning.
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