There are just some songs that wreck me. Overfilled with emotion, tears leak out. One minute I’m doing shoulder presses in my basement and the next the weights are set down and the hands lift back up with no resistance. Sweat still beading from my brow is mixed with salty tears. My lips catch each drop and heavy breathing pushes out and the droplets mist in front of me disappearing before they ever hit the ground. My mind drifts back to a few months ago…the last time the lyrics and melody swept me away into complete abandoned worship. Worship that left me in a puddle at the feet of Jesus.

***

The morning was anything but ordinary. It was Tuesday and with much anticipation I was heading to the hospital later that afternoon for my CT scan. This scan would determine, quite honestly, whether or not I was right about the Lord speaking to me about my healing. But first the morning held Coffee Beak, a Bible study at a local church. Not my own church but one that I quickly grew to love. Each lesson seemed tailored just for me and the Lord spoke directly to my heart for weeks. It was right where the Lord placed me for this integral season of my life. 

God had given me blessing after blessing after blessing the weeks prior to let me know I was seen, chosen, and loved. And yet like a child, always going after just one more sweet. I too asked the Lord for just one more. “Jesus, I wanna pray to you through worship today. I have prayed and prayed and prayed so long and you know my heart’s desire. I just wanna praise you today. And maybe, if we could sing The Goodness of God, during large group – well then I would just know more than ever – that you have this – all of this.”

It doesn’t take many notes on the keyboard to recognize a song that speaks and breathes life to your soul. I gasped when I heard the music start and my reaction was far from anything I had ever done before. Overcome and overwhelmed I slipped my heels off of my feet. I wanted to stand in my place. I wanted to exalt Jesus and even an inch above the carpet was too high of a place for me. And then I fell to my knees and with hands lifted high and tears streaming down my face I sang with everything in me. 

All my life you have been faithful.

All my life you have been so so good.

With every breath that I am able.

I will sing of the goodness of God. 

With my life laid down

I’M SURRENDERED NOW

I GIVE YOU EVERYTHING

Your goodness if running after

It’s running after me!!!

I knew in that moment that I was being pursued by Jesus. He was there with pen in hand writing a story only he could imagine, construct, and bring into being. 

I am seen. I am known. I am chosen. I am loved.

***

As the bridge played in the cold cement surroundings of my basement. I once again heard his truth of his continued pursuit of my heart, soul, and life. And I took it all in. I took time to remember His goodness that has been poured out each day of my life. And I thanked Him and praised Him and worshiped Him in a not so usual place. Jesus will find you and meet you where you are. Even in a cool basement, on a random Tuesday, during your workout session.

Jesus  wants to pursue you and be pursued by you. He wants to lavish you with blessings beyond your comprehension. Are you open to being found? Are you open to being seen? Cherished? Loved?

If so, what are you waiting for? I promise that if you seek Him you will find Him. He’s just waiting for you to ask.

It happened…I swore I wasn’t going to let it happen but it did.  I promised with everything in me that I would REMEMBER with every fiber in my being. I promised I would NEVER forget.

And yet it faded. Time seems to fade things so gradually.

The tender tap began to come to my heart, I heard the sweet, gentle, patient words of the Lord Loved one, remember your healing? That was me. There’s a story there sweet child. I gave you a story. A story for my glory. Share it. Boast in me. Tell of my glory. Tell of my power. Tell of my love. Tell them I’m personal and  I am relational.

So today, I choose to remember. I choose to pull it back out. Dust it off. Polish it pretty. And set it up high on the shelf to see and to show off. It’s my story. It’s my testimony. It’s my reminder of how good and how big my God is. It’s my very own example of how personal and loving he is. It’s a story that is littered with details…oh the details. The details that are scribbled on a piece of notebook paper, each line filled, front and back. Because he is so good and he is EVERYWHERE. Every moment, each day, I witnessed him. I felt him. I felt loved. I WAS SEEN.

Do you want to feel seen? Do you want to feel known? Do you want to feel loved?

Then MOVE!

Make a move in a forward direction. Jeremiah 29: 13 says, “If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.” He is waiting for you with arms wide open. He wants you and all the mess you bring him.

Prayer is one  of the most, if not the most, powerful tools we have as believers is Christ Jesus. We have to ability to commune with the Father through the blood of Jesus. We are granted access to the throne room. Psalm 116:2 says that as we prayer he “bends down to hear us” we are told that our prayers are a sweet aroma to him. And if it is as powerful as He says it is, then we need to be teaching it to our children.

I have always shied away from thinking that children as young ages could truly know and understand the gift of salvation. This is of course is inaccurate and is a result of a skeptical and critical heart…the Lord’s always working on something….PRAISE GOD. But he showed me how wrong I was through my own sweet daughter. At a young age she has grown to trust Jesus and has grown to love talking to him. Her faith is an incredible example to me. She prays expectantly. And God answers her faithfully. I am blown away, foolishly, that God would choose to bend down to hear her pleas and grant her them. I believe it is his way of instilling great faith in her tiny heart. And I as Momma have the privilege to help water it and watch it grow.  

I also have the responsibility of showing her the magnitude and blessing of this gift. Which is why when she gets fearful or uncertain we remind her of all the ways God has answered her prayers and then encourage her to continue to ask in faith.

A few months ago I was dealing with daily tension headaches. They started in mid-December and were continuing each and everyday for all hours. By mid-March it has just become part of my normal. I had to sit and rest for longer than I wanted to, but I just had no relief. On top of that I was going to see a surgeon for a whole other issue (not related to headaches). As I was preparing to leave my husband asked our girls to pray for their mommy. They didn’t have an understanding of what the issue was so their prayers were pretty vague..until we got to Della. Della simply prayer for mommy’s headaches to go away and for her to have more energy so she didn’t need to lay down so much. 

And the headaches left…

I waited two weeks before I even mentioned it because I was certain they would return… remember that critical heart I struggle with? I sat down and I told Della about how her prayer was answered. My word, did that girl’s face light up. Her faith grew in that very moment. She then asked, “What else can we pray for?” We took the time to think and she came up with her next prayer request. She got a piece of paper and wrote her prayer down and stuck it to my closet door as a reminder. It read, “Dear Jesus, take my zeets away before school starts.” Sweet girly had some warts, that she refers to as “zeets” all over the inside of her legs and lower bum. She hated them and was so ready for them to be gone. And the Lord blessed her with clear skin two weeks before school started. And we praised Jesus over and over again for his great faithfulness. And my critical heart has been softened.

God is just soooo good.

He beckons me. He calls for me. He wants me.

Even when I’ve been less than desirable. Even when I’ve stiff armed. Even when I’ve said No, I can do this myself. Even when I’ve said I don’t want to do it your way.

He waits patiently for my return.

There have been many seasons of silence in my walk with Christ. All of them can be attributed back to the fact that I am a selfish human. I get annoyed at my circumstances and instead of turning to the one that can change my attitude around, I turn inward to myself and try fix the problem. My solutions are never ample, and the hole I sit in gets deeper and deeper until I am actually not able to throw dirt out any more and I am just heaping the stones and gravel upon myself.

And then eventually, with the nudge of brothers and sisters in Christ, I look up. And I see Him…smiling, and reaching out a strong hand. Bending down to pick me up. In his beautiful spotless white linen. The dirt doesn’t even stick to it. My filth can’t touch him. It just falls right off, and as I reach toward him and see how filthy my mud covered hands are from trying so hard to do it all – I question if I can truly be clean from this. This need for self doing. This need to fix my own problems because I want them fixed right now. Because waiting is too hard. Because His way hurts sometimes. Because I’m not sure that I can trust Him today, with this.

Does He want this dirty hand?

And he keeps reaching. Bent low from his throne room. He heard my cries for help. He heard my whimpers in the night. And in my distress he came. And I finally  reach back because there is nothing else I can do. I cannot save myself. I without a doubt  need someone. Someone way bigger than me. And as his hand grasps big and his fingers engulf as they wrap, the mud begins to fall off of mine. And as I am pulled out of the dark pit and back into the light, the dirt continues to fall off until even the tips of my toes and soles of my feet are now standing spotless on solid ground. And I am standing so undeservingly next to him in the same white linen with his arm around me covering me.

And I look at that pit, and become filled with gratitude to the one who pulled me out. And I’ll swear that I’ll never go there again. Because that place was lonely, oh it was so lonely. And it was so dark. And it was so clearly not where I belonged.

And I can’t even fathom how the God of the Universe. Creator, Holy God even cares about me. Selfish me. But then I remember He is Abba. He is Daddy. He is love. And that it’s not being in the hole that’s sinful; it’s being without him that is. It’s heaping the work upon myself that separates me more from HIm.

So Sister, if you are out there in your own hole, with your own shovel, heaping the dirt back on yourself. Getting farther and farther from the light because you keep digging a bigger hole. Maybe you’ve gone so far as to get tunnels going because you just can’t see how going up is going to make it better. STOP digging. Stop clawing. Be still and look up and wait. Cry out to Him as loudly as you can. Because even if nothing more than a faint whisper leaves your lips, it will reach Him. And then you wait.  You wait expectantly on the Lord your God, Abba, Daddy. And you listen. And you will hear his voice. And you will see his light. And you will see his hand reaching down, down, down to come and rescue you. All you need to do now is reach up.

“I just want out of this store,” I groaned as I lay my head down on my arms folded across the red handle of my very full cart. White plastic bags were in a large mound daring to slip off. Evidence of the time spent in the huge store.  Two of my girls gripped their tiny pudgy fingers around the metal grates – yelled at one too many times to “stay close” “don’t touch” “put down” “come here” “be quiet” – they clung tightly in an attempt to obey momma’s commands one last time…

I was tired. I was SO tired. And I heard the irritation in my voice that was directed at the lady as the register. “I don’t care if my rewards work…I just want to be done.” Because – STICK A FORK IN ME – I AM DONE!!!

When I finally slumped in the seat of my van after unloading was what hopefully a week’s worth of food – and two small girls – I closed my eyes and attempted to muster up the energy it would take to drive 30 minutes home.  Bless that cashier for dealing with my attitude. I felt guilty. I felt bad for not being more kind. I felt very “non-Christian” as I sat and prayed my medication would work quickly or even at all as I drove home on the long county roads.

My auto-immune disease (myasthenia gravis) had been flaring for months my energy was sucked dry only hours after waking up each day. My medicine was working minimally. And the demands of wife and mother don’t stop because you are sick. Perhaps what makes it even worse is that I don’t even look sick. I look perfectly healthy – it’s all on the inside and it different each day if not each hour.

BUT how do we look Christ-like when we are in our moments of suffering?

We show grace when we are the cashier.  We realize that bad days and moments happen. And we don’t take offense when we end up on the receiving end. Because the truth is…you don’t know that woman’s story. You don’t know what happened that day, week, month, year, or  lifetime. And it doesn’t matter that you don’t always know. You’ll probably never know her whole story. But remember THERE IS A STORY. And do your best to extend grace and love because THAT is a beautiful picture of Christ.

That cashier had every right to believe that I was a grouchy mom, and she probably did! You’ve probably had all the evidence to point to someone being grouchy, stupid, mean, ignorant, selfish, lazy, rude…etc – all the things that rub us the wrong way. But instead of assuming…just say, I don’t know her story and leave it be. Don’t dwell on it. Don’t stew in it. Don’t take offense to it…leave it be.

And if YOU are having a bad year, day, hour…

Remember “But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

“God is who He says he is, and he does what he says he will do, even when we can’t see it.” First 5

If you would just let me be able to chew food…

If you would just let me be able to hold my daughter…

If you would just let me be able to exercise…

If you would just let me be able to use my hands fully…

If you would just let the medicine work…

If you would just take away the double vision…

If you would just allow me to smile fully…

If you would just give me more energy…

Then…

I could be happier.

I could be a better wife.

I could be a better mom.

I could be a better friend.

I could be a better Christian.

My prayers became bargaining sessions each and every night. As I lay in bed, I’d curl over on my side, knees tucked up to my chest, and squeeze my eyes shut while hot tears seeped out of the corners. I’d stifle the sobs so as to not wake my husband sleeping beside me. And I’d beg. I’d plea. I’d promise I’d be better if He would just take it all away. I’d promise that I would glorify Him though the healing. That I’d share with all my joy and faith that comes only through knowing, loving, and trusting Christ. If only He’d heal me.

And then I stopped praying.

I stopped praying because He wasn’t giving me the answers I wanted. I stopped praying because He seemed so very far away. I stopped praying because I wasn’t willing to see the whole picture. I stopped praying because I thought I knew best. And through this silence I learned two very important things.

First, I learned how badly I need the church. I knew that while I was no longer praying for healing, there were others that were. Hundreds of others were going to the throne room on my behalf and petitioning for me. I would love to tell you that in my weakest moments, in my darkest nights, in my deepest valley, I looked up and saw God. The sad truth is that I grew harder and harder each and every day. Because of the church and fellow believers I came out on the other end. And I can look back and clearly see that now. So I encourage you to pray for your brothers and sisters who are in deep despair. Because if they are anything like me they need you to go to Him who sit on His throne and bends down to hear our sweet pleas. They need you because it hurts too much right now. The burden is too heavy and they are having a hard time giving it all to God.

Second, I learned that God is God and “God doesn’t want us to focus on what we can do…He is asking us to focus on what He can do.”* And the moment I start to think that my way could possibly be better than my all-knowing, all-loving, all-powerful God, then I’ve reduced Him down to a God that isn’t worthy of my praise. I don’t know or understand God’s plan AT ALL. All I do know is that we must trust His promises. And he promises that all things work out for the good of those who love Him. I know that this path is hard. This path is littered with obstacles. Those obstacles are simply a part of my path. My path is mine and He is walking beside me, carrying me at times, and cheering me on. The goal isn’t an easy life here on this earth. My focus must be eternal. And because I have the promise of eternal life with Him in glory I persevere, I push forward, and I praise God for His good and perfect plan that led me to Him.

One day, perhaps in eternity, maybe sooner, I’ll smile again, I’ll use my hands properly again, I won’t need the medicine, I’ll see clearly, I’ll have my energy, I’ll be whole. Oh what a day that will be.  Until that day, I’ll wait with expectation because God is who He says He is and He will always keep His promises.

*Ann Swindell

1 Peter 1:7 “These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold – though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.”

What is it that I want? It seems that the answer should be super simple and easy to explain. When you have a chronic illness, you should just want to be better. You should want your normal life back. You should want the pain and exhaustion to end. And don’t get me wrong, I do want these things. But at the same time I want to be able to remember these moments in the valley. I want to remember the fear, the doubt, the heaviness of life. I want to remember the gratitude of having someone show up at your door with a meal because even the thought of cooking sends you into despair. The overwhelming thanks of having someone take all four or your kids out for the day so you can get rest. The blessing of knowing that hundreds of people are advocating through prayer for you because your soul is somehow silenced in the burden you carry.

It becomes so easy to forget all of the pain that was heaped upon you over the past days, months, years. It’s like when you labor for hours for that baby. Your contractions seem more than unbearable. You’re not sure that you can take another second. And then, when she is put on your chest it’s instantly forgotten. You’re happy. You’re fine. You’re whole.

Why would anyone want to remember the pain and heartache? Because it’s the pain and heartache that somehow start making you the person you’re meant to be. It’s the agony in the night that brings the relief in the morning. It’s the sorrow that reminds you how much you need a Savior.  Someone to reach down and take just an inkling of grief from you.

Why would I want to remember the burn? Because it’s in that fire that I was forged. I was heat up and beaten. I was refined.

So what do I want? I want to be healed…but I want to remember with every ounce of me how it felt. I wouldn’t trade a second of this life if it meant I couldn’t know what it was to need to be saved. I’ll go through that fire over and over again if I have to. If it means that I will come out stronger each and every time, it will not be in vain.