“Faithful You have been, and faithful You will be”
These lyrics are from one of my favorite worship songs: “Ever Be” by Bethel, and even when it isn’t easy to sing – I will sing it and praise God. He deserves my worship regardless of how I feel.
A couple days ago, I didn’t feel up to singing. I didn’t feel up to breathing. I even took the day off of ministry, which I never do. The night prior I found out some shocking news, and it stabbed me in the gut. Read the blog I just posted prior to this one “A Prayer I Barely Have The Strength To Pray” if you want a better image of where I was at.
I woke up, prepared my breakfast – fully thinking that I was going to still go to ministry. As the clock ticked closer to the time we needed to leave… The easy task of even talking to my team became more daunting. Each tick of the clock placed another brick on my chest. Thoughts racing through my mind.
“How am I going to put on a smile and go evangelize this morning?”
“I don’t even want to be awake, I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to move”
On the Race I have been learning about being more self-aware. I’ve also been learning about boundaries, burn out, and just how much I push myself because of what other people think.
“What would be the best for your mental health right now?”
These thoughts all racing through my mind as I just stared into my cup of coffee. I finally got up the courage to ask my team leader if it would be alright to take the morning off to go call my family – without hesitation she said yes.
“Wow, that was easier than I thought”
The whole time leading up to me asking, I was fighting myself. Not because of the answer she would give me – I knew she would say yes.. But because of the expectations I’ve placed on myself to always be okay.
I walked along a busy street, dodging food carts, trash, and the call of the Tuk Tuk drivers – “lady, tuk tuk?” I shook my head no, and I shook off all of the guilt I felt for taking time for myself.
“This is what you need”
The smell of Asia filling my nostrils. I still don’t understand how in one inhalation I can almost be gagging by the sewer, trash, or fish scent that is residing in my nose – and then in the next inhilation my nostrils could be filled with the sweet aroma of incense, fresh fruit, or fried rice.
I continued on my journey to the one air conditioned cafe/bakery that I know of on my street. Sweat starting to drop down my face, arms, back, and even my legs. I wheaved in and out of traffic as I crossed over the street right in front of the cafe. In Cambodia, street lights are few and far between. You just have to walk if you need to.
I entered the doors to the little French Bakery, a blast of A/C immediately sending me relief. Here I will buy a yummy tasting cup of coffee, that I am fully aware will leave my stomach hurting afterwards.
As I walked through the doors I was immediately hit with despair and regret. I just wanted to be alone, curled up in my BED at home, with the freedom to cry.
“Why did I come to a public place to get away?”
“Who am I kidding… Sitting in a cafe surrounded by strangers is the most alone I’ve been in a while…”
“This will work” I reassure myself as I approach the counter.
I order a cappuccino – my regular drink overseas. I then head upstairs and find a table in a corner, somewhat alone.
“Today I am taking what I need. I am looking out for me. If I run out of gas and kill my engine, what use am I to anyone?”
“No guilt. I am going to sit here and call my family.”
Talking to my Mom was everything I needed. We talked about what happened, she shared her perspective – which was a lot less depressing than mine, and it actually filled me with peace.
I realized sitting alone at that cafe, that I could sit and wallow in my misery. I could give into my flesh. The flesh that wants to just fall face first into the dirt of grief and give up.
Or I can fight.
I can read my bible, listen to a podcast, journal about how I’m feeling, continue to verbally process, and play guitar – singing and worshipping my Creator, my King, my Redeemer.
Thankfully, I chose the second option. Surprisingly by the end of it, I could breathe again. I could smile at my team or a stranger and mean it.
This isn’t a one in done, got my peace back and that’s the end of it kind of deal… But it is encouraging.
I am in the midst of grief right now… I’ve written emotional prayers, asked God hard questions, and cried. But that’s okay – that’s part of it. That is all part of healing, and that’s what I’m learning.
Yet, just because it is okay if I’m not okay – I don’t have to live there. I don’t have to wallow in self pity as I curse the sky for making my family suffer through yet another death.
I can fight my way back to freedom, to peace, to happiness. And until I get there, I can plug into the ultimate source – God. I can get miraculous peace and joy from Him.
I can finally give up trying to fight this in my own strength. I can realize that I can do nothing on my own, and let Him carry me.
Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
What I’m realizing is that He is ready and waiting for me to jump into His arms. He has been by my side, reaching His hand out to hold mine this entire time.
Last year when my family went through unimaginable amounts of pain – I thought I’d faced it all. I thought that I could finally learn how to grieve, and it would be something I could check off on the “need to know” list. Well – grief comes in all different shapes and sizes, and unfortunately in my life I’ve learned how to navigate many different forms of grief… But the best part is, I don’t need to know the steps – I just need to know how to surrender to God.
Surrender my emotions to Him (the anger, sadness, confusion, etc.)
Surrender my need for control.
Surrender my need for reasoning.
As soon as I come to Him, surrendering… Asking… He is there.
I am still not okay, I am still processing, but I’m better then I was that night in my hammock (blog I mentioned above).
I am taking this a day at a time, and He is meeting me every morning with His love, peace, joy, and mercy.
Lord, I’m sorry that I doubted You. I’m sorry that I got angry, and that I doubted Your plan. Lord, I know You love me and my family. I know that Your plans are better than anything I could ever dream up for myself, or those I love. I know there was a reason for everything that has happened in my life. I know that these trials are refining me and my family and preparing us. Lord, even though I don’t understand – I trust You. I know Your character, and that You are merciful, just, and that You will redeem all of this pain.
Psalm 100:5 “For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.”
God, I thank You for this pain and the lessons You are growing me in. Even if I don’t see it now, I thank You for how You are molding me into the person You need me to be in order to fulfil the call You’ve placed on my life.
1 Peter 1:6-7 “So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. 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.”
