If you missed part one, I would take a minute to get the background. Click Here.
So now I was rested, at least physically. I would love to say I woke and kneeled down, bowed down in prayer and truly released it to God.
Prior to this storm I was in, I accepted God as my Lord and Savior…. BUT I never really surrendered ANYTHING. No challenges. No storms. No expectations. No stress. No uncertainty. My faith walk was strengthening – but I was avoiding, hiding from my biggest weakness. Control. I continued with my plans, in my way. I have always been a problem solver, so I just assumed, strike that, believed all of these earthly challenges were presented for me to solve, for me to tread water, and for me to find the path. My natural desire to control all pieces. Surrendering wasn’t part of my vocabulary, it wasn’t in my perceived make-up. I thought I was “gifted” with the talent to problem solve, therefore, I must problem solve E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.
This storm. This moment. This pain. This uncertainty… I didn’t have the brain power or energy to begin to process and problem solve.
I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands, and I would not be comforted. (Psalm 77:1-2)
This Psalm captures where I was. I kept picturing Jesus in the boat sleeping through the storm. I understood where the bewilderment of the followers came from. In my brain, I knew I wasn’t walking alone. My heart wasn’t so sure.
One afternoon, just me and my youngest. Struggling was an understatement. I was finding difficulty in just making a bowl of cereal for him. I remember, feeling so defeated. Feeling so unsure. Feeling so angry for giving the enemy power over my now questioning faith. Feeling so low, I just wanted to lay down and hide. Watch life from a distance. As I stood in the kitchen, I felt like a was living a movie scene. A scene where they are in close to the damsel in distress, around the boarders of the screen, are all these mini scenes of things happening around them. They are physically there- but it is all just going on around the close up. I remember dropping to my knees so hard and the physical pain shot up and awoke some the numbness. I cried, a cry I can’t describe. I called out – I literally yelled “Lord I need you, I know in my brain you are with me. But I need something anything to know you hear my cries. You hear my heart. That you are guiding me. I just can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this. Something anything. I know I shouldn’t be asking this, well demanding this. But I need something or I am not sure I will be able to literally pick myself up off this floor.” Without even having the words fully out and ready to keep pleading I was interrupted by a text. I wanted to throw my phone out the window. I was angry for being interrupted. I was angry for the enemy getting another “point” in this game we were playing. I picked up and turned over the phone. A past co-worker had texted. “Hoping you are doing well. You were on my mind this morning during my quiet time and I wanted to check in” I still cry at the thought of this moment. Now, I had a close prayer group and a couple family members that knew what was going on. They checked in regularly. This person He used, this timing, was ALL GOD. He used her- because those who knew, if used, could have slapped me upside the head and I still would have missed the message. I sobbed. I was laying prostrate. I was praising Him for his timing. His love shown by granting a demand, giving in to little ole me. I finally picked myself up. Made that bowl of cereal. I would love to say the true surrender to God, happened in this moment. I can be a bit slow. My faith was secure again. BUT only secure in believing I am a problem solver and I must be missing something that I needed to do.
A few weeks later, I was finding a way to re-do life daily. I wasn’t living much past day to day. One weekend, my husband, canceled on going golfing. This was HUGE. He lived and breathed golf for most of his life. My already broken heart, broke into smaller pieces. He shared his desire to run from everyone and everything. His desire to get out of our way. He desired to stop impacting our lives. His belief we were all better off without him. He believed I could handle both our son and step son alone. I don’t even know where or what words came to me, but after hours of talking, he agreed to go to the doctor. I knew this bout of depression was so so much more than in the past. I was angry again, why was our marriage being attacked. We had survived so much at this point. I still refused to surrender.
Now a few months from the start, we had made some progress at the doctors. On the surface. But he still wanted to run. He wanted to run from earth. He had lost his way on his faith walk. He didn’t feel he deserved that road. He was struggling to make it through work. He wasn’t great at responding to phone calls or texts. This eye of the storm, seemed calmer, but it was darker. It was filled with his lack of desire to keep going. It was filled with my running home to check on him before picking my youngest up. I was determined if I couldn’t fix this, I would at least control how I may find him and who was with me. One afternoon, I came to check on him after unanswered texts and calls. He wasn’t home, just busy at work. I fell again hard to my knees. I held my hands up, I cried, I pleaded with the Lord to help me to FULLY release and surrender this storm. I asked for wisdom on how to firmly focus on Him and not the storm. I asked Him to help slow my brain and to find peace in this crazy storm until HE choose to calm it. I asked for help to put back on His armor and block these mind games the enemy was playing. I confessed that I now realized that the waves crashing in on me wasn’t that He didn’t care, that He didn’t hear, but He was waiting for me to truly trust Him in my heart. I confessed all my perceived weaknesses. I asked for wisdom to reveal weakness I needed to address.
I can’t report that the storm ended immediately. We were still in for a long road. But a weird peace came while treading through the rough waters. The fog lifted and I began living with eyes on the clear blue sky.
He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. – Colossians 1:17
… To be continued in Part 3: Restoration and Grace.