I feel like we are guilty at times of showing others only
our best. Because we are scared to show them what’s underneath that. Maybe it’s
a hurting heart. Sadness, bitterness, worry…sins and aches of all types. We don’t
want people to know that. I don’t, at least. But I’ve had it on my heart for a
while to write this down. Maybe so someone could read it, identify with it, be
encouraged…come to know my Healer, Protector, and Savior. Or maybe just so I
can read it later and be reminded of this season in my life and how God has
used it to shape who he wants me to be.
I say we are “guilty” of showing others only our best because
I don’t believe that’s real. I think it’s great to let people see the wonderful
things God has done in our lives, but I also think there’s a time to be real
and let people see how God can make beauty out of things that apart from him, just
aren’t beautiful.
These past couple of years, we've had some tragic things happen to people we love. I've been carrying some heavy burdens around--saying I was carrying them to Jesus--but in all reality, I wasn’t. I was taking them
to him, and then carrying them around with me everywhere I went. Constantly
trying to think of a way to fix things that I just couldn’t possibly fix.
It weighed and weighed on me until I woke up one morning
last winter and realized my spirit had been crushed. Utterly and completely crushed.
Words really can’t describe how that feels, but I imagine we all know some
version of a crushed spirit. It’s like I was walking around with a veil over my
eyes that made everything in the world shades darker than I remembered it being.
Worrying about the next step...all day, and sometimes all night, until extreme
exhaustion set in, making things much worse. I wrote down my prayers every day
during the worst of that time period—and looking back—I see repeated pleas to
God to replenish me with his joy. With his peace. With a real smile that felt
normal. I felt like I had been robbed. Yes, in spite of the wonderful husband,
children, and countless blessings God has given me, I felt deeply, deeply sad, and very, very panicked.
I used to pray through tears--lots of them--“God, please fix me!” Or many times, just “Jesus,
please”…not even knowing what I was asking for.
Looking back, I realize that God used that time to show me
how utterly helpless I am without him. I had said the words before, “I’m lost
without you.” Oh, but I hadn’t known the meaning. (And I'm sure there'll be many times later in life when I know the meaning even more.) I‘m a control freak,
perfectionist kind of gal. But life dished out so much that it became downright
impossible for me to bear. God needed to show me that. Otherwise, why would I
go to him?
I don’t want this post to be a bummer! That’s not the point
at all. Here’s the point:
In the midst of all
that, one thing never changed (and never will): God’s love. He loved me for the
broken mess I was. He carried me and continues to carry me through each day. I
knew even then, and repeated to myself multiple times a day …”the Lord your God
goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6). I
still struggle with worry daily. But he gives me the peace,
strength, hope, and joy that I could never get from this world. I don’t deserve
any of that, but he willingly gives it. All because he loves me. How awesome is it that he offers that to all
of us?
So, I continue to pray for God to daily replenish me and use
that struggle for good—to make something beautiful out of it. Knowing that only
he can, and knowing that he will.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they
will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)
