Struggles

Waiting rooms – I am certain – are made to break you.

They are forced moments where life seems endlessly suspended.

You have no control over what is happening wherever you are, and you have no insight into what awaits on the other side.

Some people are good at waiting…

They spend their time being productive –
or better yet – resting – relishing the time to be quiet and at peace.

But others worry while they wait.
They twist their hands…
Or bounce a knee…

Waiting.

But almost everyone has a point where the waiting becomes restlessness and restlessness turns into anxiety.

More waiting.

God is fond of waiting:

Just ask the Israelites wandering in circles in the desert…
Or Hannah waiting for Samuel…
Or Jacob working for Rachel…
Or Jesus waiting to begin His ministry that would change the world.

How do you wait?

Do you fret?
Do you bounce a knee?
Or wring your hands?
Is your focus on what is on the other side of the waiting?

Are you productive?
Do you use each minute (or day) (or month) (or year) to attend to other matters?
Do you spend it in reflection?
Do you spend it preparation?

Or better yet…
Do you spend it resting?
Do you spend it praying?
Do you know deep in your soul that God – as Bethany Dillion croons so eloquently:

“…can do more in [your] waiting…

than in [your] doing [you] could do.”

Rest in the waiting.

Take a deep breath and relax into it. 

That is the goal.
That is the pinnacle.
That is wisdom.
That is beauty.
That is trust.

 

Yes, waiting rooms are made to break you:

They are made to break you of your will..

They are made to break you of your way…

to bring you to His.

2016.

It is an even year.  Some of you know my theory of even years which was passed down from a friend.  And she is right, the even years (those that end in even numbers)…well, I wish we could skip them except they come before odd years, which oddly are not odd.

Where was I?

Oh yes.  It is an even year; therefore, it is kicking my butt all over the place.

It has been a hard year:

A year full of change and chaos; of dying to self and of realizing exactly how selfish I can be.

It has been a year of frustration, of challenge, of discouragement, and of doubt.

I am surrounded everywhere by the unfamiliar, the uncomfortable, the difficult and the flat out embarrassing.

I’m getting pretty good at apologies and admitting I am wrong (much more than I originally suspected) 🙂

I’m also getting pretty good at realizing I need help more married than I ever did single.  Its a different kind of help but help all the same.

I learned quite quickly – and am still learning – the first year of marriage is HARD…maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Why do people not tell you this? They tell you marriage is hard, but they don’t really tell you it starts immediately.

There have been some strikingly beautiful moments mixed in with the hard, the difficult, and the disorganized.

Moments of bliss and of unadulterated happiness.
Moments of belly laughs and love so grand I think my insides will burst.
Moments of loveliness so overwhelming it leaks from my eyes.
Moments of forgiveness and grace so humbling I know I don’t deserve it.
Moments of reconciliation so beautiful it takes my breath away.

It is in those moments I realize its all worth it.

I confess, haven’t prayed consistently this year.  There is a reason Coffee with Christ hasn’t had a post since February….because I haven’t had coffee with Christ.

Last night, though, I did pray, and something happened that hasn’t happened in a while:

I became a warrior….
a soldier…
a fighter.

Satan has been trying to steal something precious from me, and I’ve been blind.

I will not let him have it.
I will fight with everything I have.
And I will ask others to fight along with me.
But more importantly, I will let Jesus fight a battle I cannot even see.

I prayed last night like I’ve never prayed before.
I prayed a battle prayer.

By the time I was finished, I realized I was standing instead of kneeling.

I was dazed.

Have you ever prayed that way? It seems weird and disconcerting.

This morning I awoke before the sun crept over the horizon. I snagged my coffee mug and watched. The sunrise is a beautiful thing. I’ve only watched three with purpose in my forty-plus years.

I watched as the sun lit up the mountains below.
The leaves of the trees where the beams were shining made them look illuminated from within.

They were glowing.

As the wind flipped the leaves about…they sparkled.

I was sparkling once.
Somewhere I lost my sparkle.
Somewhere I started to look like the grey and dark trees the sun had not touched…
a silhouette of who I really am.

Then, I realized…the only thing that makes one tree sparkle and another one grey…was the sun.

It is the same for us.

The Son illuminates us.
The Son makes us sparkle.
The Son makes us dance.
The Son makes us who we are meant to be.

The darkness is what makes us a silhouette of who we really are,
And I’m tired of sitting in the darkness….

I’m going to get up and watch the Son rise every day.

It’ll be hard…
It’ll be difficult…
It will be a battle…
because the darkness does not leave without a fight.

It’s a good thing I am a warrior…
with a Mighty Fortress as my God.
A Bulwark never failing.

I will not let Satan have what he wants.

Arise, Son, Arise.
For You must win the battle.

“Wait…Be still,” was the faint whisper I kept hearing deep in my soul amidst the chaos in my mind.

But how can I be still when my world seems to be in falling apart?

I fight my flesh.
I fight the incessant need to interject into Your work.

It is best left alone.
You do not need my help.

Forgive me for not waiting well.

I pace about back and forth…
back and forth…
back and forth.

I am weary and exhausted. What I would give for a word from You.

A word of comfort.
A confirmation that You hear.
A sign of that You are working.
A sign that You – instead of me – are fighting.

At moments that pass all too swiftly, I have peace.

There is a confidence in You and in Your direction.
The boat seems steady.

But it is fleeting.

Another swell of worry, doubt, or fear comes raging at my little dingy.

I am being tossed about.

I am tiny in such rough waters.
I want to paddle, but it is futile in such raging seas.

I need Your protection from the waves.
I need You to steady the boat.
To keep it upright.

And I am reminded…

I need Thee.
Oh, I need Thee.
Every hour I need Thee.
Oh bless me now, my Savior
I come to Thee.

And so I come…

weary
worn
worried

I come with my mess.
I come distressed.
And I cry out to You.

Merciful, Lord.
Hear me.
Stoop down.
Rescue me.
For I am Yours.

I need thee.
Oh, I need thee.
Every hour I need thee.
Oh bless me now, my Savior
I come to thee.

My life has been turned upside down lately and seems to be a complete mess…

Work seems to be uber-stressful (which is odd for me). 
I have a roommate for the first time in 12 years.  
My health has been sub-par (but not serious).
And the little annoyances and problems of every day life that normally don’t phase me seem to be overwhelming. 

These recent events brought a post to mind that I wrote for the Valleydale Women’s Ministry blog last year.  If you’re stressed out, or anxious, or have ever been in the past, I hope you keep reading.  I hope it brightens your day as you realize that He can use your stressed out, anxious self for good and for the glory of His name. 

I had a delightful opportunity to teach Breaking Free From Fear.  Ironically, I had to take a couple of sessions off because I was struggling with anxiety.

(God has the most wonderful sense of humor. Don’t you think?)

I’m still not sure what was going on, but for a few weeks I felt like I was being tortured from the inside out. Physically, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin.

I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t eat.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t focus.
I was exhausted.

I can’t articulate properly how much it pained me to struggle with fear while I was supposed to be teaching on that very topic. I mean…I knew all the church answers.

I tried to take every thought captive (2 Corinthians 10:5).
I prayed for peace that transcends all understanding (Philippians 4:7).
I recited every scripture I could possibly think of that had to do with fear.

But still my anxiety persisted and Satan had a field day. He tried to convince me that I had no business teaching. He tried to persuade me that people would think I was crazy. He told me my God wasn’t faithful and His Word was ineffective. All of these things compounded my anxiety.

Mercifully, my symptoms dissipated after I quit taking some medication, but the questions in my heart still haunted me. I felt like a failure. I beat myself up for letting my fear overcome my faith, and because of this, I was certain I had disappointed God and that He could never use me. In three words: I was crushed.

I took these hard feelings to God. Immediately, in my mind, I saw an image of Peter sinking. He was waist deep in rough seas with fright filling his face, and an arm reached out to save him.

It was the last lesson I taught before taking a break, and it was crystal clear in my mind.

Peter – perhaps sinking more in panic than in the waves – might not have found his faith that day, but what he did find was grace.

You see, Jesus didn’t give up on Peter because his faith wasn’t perfect. He didn’t walk away from him because of his fear (Matthew 14:25-31). He didn’t just save him.

He used him.

He used him as the rock on which to build His church (Matthew 16:18).

Sure. Peter’s story teaches us how to step out in faith and walk on water. It teaches us how to keep our eyes on Jesus instead of looking around at the raging storm. But it also teaches us that God doesn’t give up on us. He uses those whose faith might falter momentarily. He uses people willing to persevere when they think they’ve failed.

He used Peter.
He can use me.
And He can use you if you let Him.

“If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself.” – 2 Timothy 2:13