~dislaimer: there’s a pretty personal testimony in here~
This morning I woke up at 4am, unable to sleep. As ridiculous as this sounds, I made a little pact with God that if He let me go back to sleep I would write new blog when I woke up. So here is that blog, a little later than intended.
I don’t know about ya’ll, but God and I seem to communicate through song. No joke. A few months ago I was questioning the Race altogether, wondering why I would leave my really great life for a trip I didn’t know much about. Why would I leave my two great jobs (model and travel nanny), my cat, my family, my incredible boyfriend, hot showers, safety, yummy food.. for what? I prayed and prayed (and prayed some more) for a sign that I was doing the right thing, and nothing came. I’m serious. Nothing. I was frustrated to the point of tears as I left one day for Blake’s place, and finally lashed out at God, accusing Him of not really being there for me when I needed it most, of not comforting me when I needed direction. I mean, isn’t that what a good Father does? The instant I got in the car, the song “Trust in You” by Lauren Daigle came on. In case you don’t know the song, here is the chorus:
“When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!”
How crazy right? I accuse God of not being there for me because He wouldn’t show me his plan, and seconds later, this song about trusting Him no matter what comes on.
Now you might be saying, come on Ali, that’s just one song, it was just a coincidence. Coincidences like that have happened so many times to me that I know they’re no longer just coincidences, but little messages from God, exactly when I needed to hear them. But just in case you don’t believe me– here’s a really awesome story. (get the popcorn and the tissues).
When I was 14, my mom died suddenly. She was beautiful, extremely healthy and couldn’t gain weight even when she tried. She’s the lady everyone wanted to hate, but was such a great person and so loving that you couldn’t help but be enamored by her. It was devastating to my family when she left, and no one could really handle it. At 14, I became an adult. I felt it was my responsibility to be strong for my family, to hold myself together so that the rest of my family didn’t fall apart.
Talking about my mom or her death became taboo in my family, because it was really just too hard to deal with. So I didn’t. I stuffed it away, and from time to time sadness would leak out of me like warmth from a house on a chilly night, always at the most inconvenient times. Crying in math class? Check. Gymnastics practice? Double check. Grocery store? You bet.
The most important time my sadness escaped me, however, was at church with my dad. I grew up in the same church that held her funeral, so how was I supposed to sit there every Sunday and pretend like nothing changed? For a while after she died, we just couldn’t go to church. Yet when I made it back, God made it VERY apparent that He had not forsaken me, that His promises still rung loud and true.
I was up at the altar getting communion, when one of the hymns played at the funeral came on. It was instant tears- water works all down my face. Ugly crying. I try to make it back to my pew without causing a disturbance (I have to be strong for everyone, remember), and sit down quietly. I’m silently praying and crying, asking God to take away this burden from me, to be strong for me because I couldn’t do it anymore. As I’m praying, I feel these two enormous hands on my shoulders, bigger than any hands I’ve ever felt. And I felt peace. I felt comfort. I felt love.
A few seconds go by, and my 14 year old human nature kicks in, and I get annoyed. Why would my dad put his hands on me when I’m crying? Doesn’t he know I’m strong enough to do this on my own? I look up, ready to tell him to stop, and instead of my earthly father, I see the smallest woman in the church sitting beside me. I wish I had a picture of this woman’s hands to show you, because they’re incredibly small. She’s about 5’3″ and maybe 105 lbs. Certainly those weren’t her hands that felt so huge? I looked around, and its just her, ready to hold me and help me through this tough time. She looked back at me and said, “Ali, your mother would be so proud of you, and we all love you very much”. God used this small 100 pound woman to comfort me when I needed it most, but He made it very apparent that it was Him. That even though life was hard and it seemed like I was doing everything myself, I wasn’t. He hadn’t forgotten about me, and still loved me so much.
There’s another song that God’s been talking to me through a lot lately, as I say my goodbyes before I leave. It’s called “Move” by Toby Mac. The entire song is uplifting, but here’s a few lines that always hit me the most.
“I know your heart been broke again
I know your prayers ain’t been answered yet
it ain’t over yet, ain’t over yet”
If nothing else, I hope this blog gave you hope. I hope that if you’re going through a tough time, you can know in your heart that God has not forsaken you, that he’ll be there with you for everything. He gave up his son for you, he certainly won’t give up on you now. In the words of Toby Mac- “It ain’t over yet”.
