The Best and Worst of Times..

To say the last seven years have been hard would be an understatement. There were times I thought it would kill me or admit me. But God…

He sustained me.

This morning, I’m sitting in my new office in our new house. The space I set up to write. My loving husband asleep upstairs (there were times I never knew if I would be able to write those words). Our kids asleep. Our dogs asleep. Home. A beautiful new home (there were times I never thought I’d write those words).

I knew I wanted them all (a loving husband, a new home, a book)..but THE PROCESS of each one seemed insurmountable.

I’ve received all three of these in three months. To say the last three months have been a whirlwind would be an understatement. But, God…

He will steady me.

I didn’t just want a husband, I wanted a faithful, loving, God-fearing one who lived here and loved me enough to commit and to wait. At fourty years old. And, I would have waited until eighty if I’d had to. I knew I’d only have peace with a man like I’d want for my own daughters one day…

I wanted a new house that gave us more room, but I wanted a very similar location. Just more room. We hoped to move this summer, but when we listed our house last month, we had an offer and signed contract in ten hours. Our pictures hadn’t even been uploaded yet! This was happening so much sooner than we’d planned. One month after getting married and we were packing up. Time to find the new place…

Done. And less than a mile away. I look around and still can’t believe it’s mine.

I was a single mom for seven years. My girls were one and five, too young to realize what was going on, too young to understand, too young to have a clue what was happening or how hurt I was by it all.

At the time, I thought how unfair that was on top of everything else. I didn’t want any of it. And, I sure didn’t want to share them, they were still literally my babies. One in diapers, the other in pull ups.

For five of those years, I bled all over my keyboard. As God would speak to my heart, I would write. I would hope the words would one day somehow touch others. I would wait for the next topic and look for His lessons in each and every heartache. In the midst of the pain and loneliness and stress and confusion and grief. I would listen and ask what I needed to know. And, still do.

I can’t clearly express the pain I’ve experienced, I’m sure there are many of you reading this who can’t either. Pain can’t be put into words, it’s felt in the heart. But, so is God.

Our words could never do Him justice, but still we write and praise and sing.

He may have spoken light and animals and plants into existence. But, He BREATHED us to life. So, with every breath, may I return my gratitude for His mercy, His faithfulness, His presence, His forgiveness, His desires in my heart.

With every breath, may I thank Him for not only what I have now, but for the past seven years of what felt like my desert. Because, it was in those seven years, that He was not only my Savior, but my husband, our provider, my sustainer. He is the giver of every single good gift that we have and there are many.

Even in pain, He gives. And, what I needed the most in my whole life was Him. He revealed Himself to me in that pain. So, I thank Him for it!

My husband with a heart for Him wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for those seven years. This house wouldn’t be ours if He hadn’t sold ours when He did. My book wouldn’t be written, much less published, if I hadn’t experienced that pain with Him. He called me to write long ago, but I didn’t have the content.

To Him be the glory of it all.

“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—the great locust and the young locust,
the other locusts and the locust swarm—my great army that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed.”
Joel 2:25-26 (NIV)

 

 

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Feel to Heal

feel

I was talking to one of my coworkers about her mom yesterday…She’s in the last stages of cancer and has been struggling with it for years now. I asked if she was in any pain. She said no, she’s actually numb now due to her neuropathy. Relieved, I said, “We’ll take numb over pain any day, right??” Yes, so true. Whether it’s for ourselves or our loved ones, we want them free of pain. Just take this, take that, anything to numb or lessen the physical pain.

I know one of the most comforting things for the family when a patient is put on hospice is that they help them to feel no pain. Please, just take their pain away.

This got me thinking about the difference between physical pain and emotional pain. You don’t have to feel the pain to heal physically. You will, until properly medicated, but healing isn’t dependent on feeling the pain associated with the injury or illness.

With emotional pain, we naturally WANT to numb the pain, but healing comes from feeling it. Going there. Expressing it. Grieving it. When our loved ones are emotionally hurt, we naturally want to numb them too. We just want them pain free. The best thing you can do is listen, talk, ask. Engage. Be willing to hear. It helps the healing. It helps. Numbing prolongs. Distracting avoids. Suppressing hinders.

We need safe people who will go there. If you’re having a hard time finding a safe person to go there with, pray for one. Look for a counselor or a trusted Christian friend. One you can trust with your story. Someone who will go there, listen, and hug you through it.

Sometimes the people you want to go to and expect to be able to, won’t be willing or able to. Sometimes they can’t handle your hurt or sometimes it brings up too much of their own.

I know someone who’s son actually left the house when he was going through his separation and divorce. Not because he didn’t care, but because it hurt him too much to witness his dad’s pain. Know that some of the people who love you can’t handle watching or hearing you in pain. Show them mercy.

Find someone who will. There are those who can bare your burdens and walk you through it. You’ll always remember these people. They will help you heal. They know the process. They know what you need. And, that is to be heard.

I have a heart for the hurting and want to help people feel comfortable expressing their pain. I know how hard it is. I know the fear in doing so. But, I also know the relief in doing so. I want to be a safe person. I want to help because I have been helped. I know what it takes.

As attractive as numb sounds, I’d still rather feel to heal.