Yesterday, if you had asked me to blog or share about the last few weeks of battles that have been waging war in my heart, I would have said no. It is hard to share when your prayers are demands, questions, tears, and sometimes screams. But today, thank God, it is a new day and I feel compelled to share. Not because I have come through perfect and unscathed, but because I pray my battle scars and then my victory will bring encouragement to the heart who is reading this, who is still in the middle of the battle, who's prayers are still screams that seem to echo off of empty walls and to remind myself of God's precious words to me.
I have wanted to post before, but have felt unable to. The war I have been fighting through the past year has been long and each new battle has left me pushed down farther. In moments, I would rise again and feel strong only to be a short lived victory as another week would usher in the beginning of another battle.
It's been a year of returned depression. Twice it has hit. Twice I have cried out in pain the question "why!? I have been healed of this. Why is returning?" Twice, by God's grace and the prayers and ministry of friends I have been ushered out of it. I thought the war was over. But before I knew it our family was hit with illness, financial stress brought on by large hospital bills and broken sweepers, a car accident involving deer meeting the front end of the van, job loss, false assumptions and false allegations.... fear of the future and the unknown and confusion have been a constant companion. Each new battle coming in two week increments....a pattern I began to prepare myself for and would cringe each time more bad news came.
Confusion wrapped itself around my mind like a heavy rain cloud that never went away. I would see a glimpse of the sun, but then it was quickly wiped out with more bad news, fear, and an overall sense of hopelessness. I began to feel like I could no longer dream. It seemed each time I would begin to dream again, something would happen, hindering any step towards achieving the dream. Not dreaming, is a bit of death to my soul. Dreaming is a part of me, it always has been.
The emotional roller coaster I was on exhausted me. I would fight to hold onto hope. I would find bondage broken, I would rest for a few moments, I would get to the top, breathing in after holding onto my breath because I was too afraid to breath......only to be crashing back down the other side, reckless, unsafe, scared to death, and holding on for dear life. Everything I thought I knew and understood didn't match up with the reality of life.
It is in times like these that I am incredibly thankful for God fearing friends, their encouragement, and the fearlessness in speaking life into the dark places of my soul....not knowing how I will respond, but burning inside with a message from God that must be shared with me, they speak anyways. What a gift from God friends like that are.
One such friend texted me a God given picture.....a small girl, wrapped tight in her Father's arms. Struggling. Beating against His chest. Fear and anger and distrust radiating from her eyes as she fought to break free from His arms that she felt were holding her back from wonderful places. She didn't understand, He was holding her tight as she beat against his chest, because He could see things she couldn't see. He was holding her tight, not letting her go because He loved her too much to let her run full tilt into those wonderful places that He knew actually were places she needed to be protected from. He saw danger that she was blinded to.
My friend hit the nail right on the head. My heart broke into a million pieces of humble. It was liked she had looked into my soul and seen me pounding, fists thrashing, beating against my Protector. I began to cry, not because I was ashamed, but because she gave me the ability to stop pounding my fists for a moment and look up into my Fathers eyes and see His unfailing love. His love brought me to my knees. I stopped thrashing and instead allowed strong arms of love to wrap themselves around me. No longer holding me back, but now pulling me in. Not because He changed, but because I stopped fighting. I still had a million and one questions. I still did not understand why we had been facing so many battles in such a short amount of time. But instead of fighting against the Lover of my Soul, I allowed His grace and mercy to wash over me. In that moment I found freedom. In the background of my day, Pandora played and as I texted my friend back...God orchestrated perfectly the play list....and these lyrics washed over my ears:
Come away with me, Come away with me
It's never too late, It's not to late for you
I have a plan for you, I have a plan for you
It's gonna be wild, it's gonna be great, it's gonna be full of me
Open up your heart and let me in
I fell to me knees, tears streaming down my face, His love washing over me, His message to me loud and clear resonated through my soul. The fear left. The anger left. I breathed fresh air again.
I wish I could say that was the end of the war. But it hasn't been. It was the end of a battle. I hoped it was the end of the war. I was so ready to move on. I felt strong. Lesson learned. But within a few days a new battle emerged filled with lies, false assumptions, and false allegations. This time, I stood firm. I said "NO! Satan, I see what you are up to! You aren't bringing me down again. Not this time!" My resolve was strong and I was determined to praise and worship on the front line, but over the last week, new blows have come and with each new hit, my resolve began to shake. The fear ushered itself back in. Stress weighed heavy. Anger come flooding back in the form of sarcastic humor that I excused away. Again, I found myself not breathing, holding my breath, my heart racing, and irrational fears of the future filled my mind as I allowed "what if's" to play over and over again.
Yesterday, dear friends, reached out again. Zephaniah 3:17 had my name tagged on it...."Your God is with you. He is mighty to save." Another friend, shared a song ministering to her heart...I listened. It ministered to mine as well. My Father was still with me, even in the new battle. A third friend, reminded me through a devotional about the widow and her small pot of oil that wasn't enough....out of sheer faith she collected more pots and in the end had more than enough oil. All because she stepped out into obedience, she stepped out in faith.
I took a moment and cleared my mind and asked my Heavenly Father a question that I may have asked long ago...when the war started...maybe with each new battle I asked too, I don't remember. If I did ask, I didn't follow through, though.
"What is it that you want me to do then?"
He answered, as quietly and gently as He always does and He said, " Let it go."
I answered, "But you know what he has done to us, right?"
"Yes, I know, but let go."
And I knew, my Father meant to let go of everything....not just that immediate battle, but everything.
It's hard to let go. It's hard to let go of the desire to be justified and vindicated. It is hard to let go of dreams that you may never see come to fruition. It is hard to let go of control and anger. It is hard to let go of not being allowed to say what you really think. It is hard.....But in that moment, I lifted my hands up and out and I let it go.
All along I think I have been fighting the gift He desires to give to me. Like a small, spoiled child on Christmas morning who gets what they need but not what they want and find it under the Christmas tree wrapped in the wrong paper and in the a box that is shaped all wrong. I am that small, spoiled child, stomping my foot and yelling, "I don't want your gift! I wanted this other gift and I wanted it wrapped in pink, not blue, and in a square box, not in a rectangle box....I don't want it!"
In the moment that I lifted my arms, I released the hands gripped in fists and I opened them up too. I stopped looking at what I wanted and I asked one simple question.
"What, Lord, what is it that you want to give to me, then?"
His answer?
"Peace."
Peace. The very thing I really wanted more than anything and yet fought with every ounce of my being, because His peace means letting go of my control. Letting go of how I envision the future and how He will bring about words spoken over us. Letting go. Letting go of my dreams and replacing them with His. Letting go of my fear that I will never have what I want or the goodness that He pours out on others.....you know....God's grace and love and kindness and goodness is for my friends, but not for me. I'm not good enough....Stinkin' Thinkin' to the core, but in truth it is the fear that has bound me. That has kept me from opening up my closed, pounding fists and accepting the gift He knows I desperately need right now. The gift, that once accepted, makes all those worldly wants and wishes pale in comparison. As I accepted His gift yesterday, He brought a song to my mind. One I have heard before, but not one that ever stuck out to me a whole lot. Yesterday it did, as these words kept sounding off in my mind:
"More than you think I am" Over and over. I looked up the song, listened, and allowed it to wash over me:
I'm more than you dreamed
More than you understand
Your days and your times
Were destined for our dance
I catch all your tears
Burn your name on my heart
Be still and trust my plan
I'm more than you think I am
I cannot stand here today and claim that because of what I experienced yesterday, that the future now will be rosy, perfect, and full of all my dreams being handed to me. In all honesty, our family, we are still in the middle of a battle. The battle isn't over and neither is this year of war we have been in. There is no formula or perfect script or prayer to rehearse to promise that the outcome of the battle we are facing will be what I envision and that the end of this battle will put an end to the war we have been in. But isn't that what peace is? The gift my Father wanted to give to me? You can't have peace without war. Peace is standing in the middle of the battle field, with the possibility of more war, without any fear. Peace is standing still and knowing He is Good in the midst of the fight. Peace is handing over all my hand made, man made weapons and instead holding His God made weapons securely in my hands. Peace is in the eye of the storm. And there it is. Peace is in the eye of the storm, as He loves like a hurricane, as I watch madness swirl all around me, confusion, chaos, fear, unknown futures....peace is the quietness in the middle of the chaos.
How I pray that the battle and the long war will soon be over. Before, the thought of more brought me to a place of breaking. Today, the thought of more, though not what I desire, ushers in an opportunity for His strength to be made strong in my weakness. It ushers in His peace. How I pray, that if there is another battle, I will remember what He has asked me to do....and let it all go immediately, opening up my empty hands to receive His peace. Allowing His God-Of-The-Angel-Army Arms to tenderly hold me, instead of pounding against them with angry fists filled with rage.
I blog this, to remind myself, so I can come back and read it again, so I don't forget. I blog this for anyone else in the middle of a battle that is one of many from a long war, in order to offer encouragement....not the perfect prayer to repeat, but encouragement to quiet your heart long enough to allow Him to speak truth and life into a drought ridden heart and soul.
I asked Him yesterday, "why did you take so long to speak, to tell me what to do?"
His answer?
"Because, I needed to take you to a place where you were really ready to listen."
I encourage you as I encourage myself. Don't be stubborn. Be ready to listen at the beginning of the war, at the beginning of the battle. Listening doesn't promise that the war and the battles will disappear, but what it does promise is the opportunity to answer His call, to step out in faith, to walk out whatever He is asking you to do, whether it is to let go or to forgive or to surrender or maybe, if you are like me, all of the above.
More Than you Think I Am
Come Away With Me
