I’m back to
the drawing board! I feel awkward,
trepidatious, nervous and weak. It’s
been many months since I have written my heart.
And the months have not been good.
As I sit here, my heart beats hundreds of times between each sentence
for fear what is really in here will not make it’s way out. For fear that it making its way to a page
will reap no harvest or even relieve that inevitable combustion inside of
me.
But I press on for only a few
reasons. It is has been 18 months since
Dirk’s accident. But my reality tries to
tell me so much of my life has passed.
My emotions try to tell me I should be thankful it has only been 18
months. And my body relays to me daily
that it may have been 18 years. It has
aged me. It has exhausted me. And it has changed me.
Writing has been my release long
before the fateful February day 18 months ago. I am thankful, often indebted,
to the healing and strength it gave me every long day and even longer nights as
we traveled the path of recovery. But it
wasn’t only my own words that were released that gave healing and strength, it
was the thousands of people praying, encouraging and sharing with me through
that process. It filled me. It energized me. And it too has changed me.
I was suffering. And writing about all God was showing me and
the feelings He was allowing me to feel brought me closer to Him, closer to you
all, and closer to recovering from that which had occurred in our family. My husband was unable to process
anything. My strength had to only come
from God and in return of me asking for strength He gave me all of you to help
me through. But in all your
encouragement of my faith and my steadfastness to God, I ended up failing in
the end. I allowed satan the permission
to take one little comment and use it to keep me from writing anymore. ONE comment!
Isn’t it just like satan to know your weakness, and just like us to
allow him a foothold. Even amidst the
thousands of comments lulling me into the peace that God was singing over me,
satan knew my weakness so well that he used one tiny comment to shut me up and
shut out the music. I didn’t think it
would matter at all. And it doesn’t to
most of you. But it did to me. And that’s how it began…the spiral into the
abyss of fear, anger, placid smiles, fake hellos, false reports and
self-disillusionment!
Last week our pastor reminded me of
something I learned on this 18 month journey.
He reminded me that our suffering is a form or worship. Think about all you have ever suffered and how you suffered. When you suffer well, God is glorified. When you suffer in public, God’s people are
used and God is glorified. When you
suffer honestly, God’s truth is allowed to pierce right through you-joint and
marrow. And that is when change is
unavoidable. For in honest suffering,
our humanity cannot be denied nor can God be fathomed. In honest suffering, our humanness, our
weakness, our raw emotion reveals the very image that God created us in and the
very reason we so desperately need Him.
But right in the middle of all
that…I failed! I just stopped. I stopped
suffering honestly. I stopped suffering
publically. i stopped releasing that which was inside of me. I stopped being real! I no longer expressed
hurt, or fear, or anger, or doubt. Or
even praise, accomplishment, hope or joy.
I shoved it all inside, tied it up in a bow, and shipped it to
nowhere. I no longer got to hear all
that God was doing in all the lives of those reading my struggles because I no
longer allowed Him to use my struggles for others. Satan had me right where he wanted me…until
today! It is coming. My heart is
stirring. My thoughts flowing. My need rising to the top. He is calling me. Calling me to worship Him again… in my
suffering, in my healing, in our recovery, and in my honesty. I just have to figure out how to be honest again…..
