Part 1 here.
So, I had diagnosed the problem, but then I either got too excited and forgot to find a solution, or just assumed one woild find its way to me.
For whatever reason, I pushed it aside for two weeks because I thought I was okay.
Then debrief came.
Despite the fact that I was finally getting to worship in English for the first time in a month, I couldn’t focus for the life of me. The first night I just told myself it was because I was really sick and probably should have stayed back and rested. But the second night I was better, so I didn’t know what was wrong with me now.
Hope got up and talked about the part in 2 Samuel where David’s son is about to die, and he’s praying and fasting and crying all the time, but then the son dies and he gets right up and gets over it. She said she felt like some of us have been in a season of grieving and need to get up. I perked up at that. Maybe that’s my problem. It HAS been 143 days after all.
But then she went on to say that for others of us it was time to let ourselves grieve. No, that’s not me. I’m sick of grieving. I want to be done.
I had no idea where I was.
So we went back to singing, except now I felt like crying and didn’t know why.
Then Hope came and sat beside me and said, “God’s telling me you aren’t forgotten.” Oh, my, gosh. “He’s looking for you just like the shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep to go after the one.” I felt like God was standing behind us listening, like in middle school when two friends have a big fight and one sends an uninvolved friend to talk to the other for them. “Only sometimes you don’t want to be found. You’re the little sheep running away, but if you just stop running, you’ll be in the safest place you’ve ever been.”
So I sobbed on her shoulder for who knows how long, and when I started to calm down and sound a little less like a tortured chihuahua, she added “I’m also hearing him say this is your time to lie down,” NO IT IS NOT God please don’t say that, “and that means literally and figuratively. Just lay down right here and let God love you.”
It kind of made no sense but I was ready to try anything. So I flopped back right where I was, and as soon as I hit the floor I felt like God swooped in and wrapped me up in a big hug. I laid there and I cried and cried, not caring that there were 40 some people standing around me; all I cared was that God was there and I could finally feel him again.
Sidebar, maybe that’s why my quiet times were so great in Peru; I always sat on the floor.
But anyways.
When I stopped crying, worship was still going on, so I stayed on the floor because it was nice down there. I asked him, “How in the world am I not done grieving? Why am I not better by now?”
And he said, “Because all you’ve done is take care of yourself. You haven’t let ME heal you. You keep putting yourself back together, then somehow you’re always surprised when you fall apart again.”
Oh.
“Also, you haven’t been grieving for 143 days. Daniel died 143 days ago, but you grieved for four days then made yourself get off the floor to go on the World Race.”
I found this fascinating because it was true, but I immediately thought of an argument: “I BEGGED you to let me put the Race off until January so I could stay home and cry for six more months!!!! You made me go now! Why’d you do that if you wanted me to keep grieving?”
“You didn’t want to go because you thought I couldn’t use you while you were still broken. I wanted you to go now because that’s exactly how I wanted you to be.”
Right. Because his power is made perfect in weakness. That’s my favorite verse but I sure forget it a lot.
Sidebar, maybe that’s why my quiet times were so great in Peru; I always sat on the floor.
But anyways.
When I stopped crying, worship was still going on, so I stayed on the floor because it was nice down there. I asked him, “How in the world am I not done grieving? Why am I not better by now?”
And he said, “Because all you’ve done is take care of yourself. You haven’t let ME heal you. You keep putting yourself back together, then somehow you’re always surprised when you fall apart again.”
Oh.
“Also, you haven’t been grieving for 143 days. Daniel died 143 days ago, but you grieved for four days then made yourself get off the floor to go on the World Race.”
I found this fascinating because it was true, but I immediately thought of an argument: “I BEGGED you to let me put the Race off until January so I could stay home and cry for six more months!!!! You made me go now! Why’d you do that if you wanted me to keep grieving?”
“You didn’t want to go because you thought I couldn’t use you while you were still broken. I wanted you to go now because that’s exactly how I wanted you to be.”
Right. Because his power is made perfect in weakness. That’s my favorite verse but I sure forget it a lot.
So, I’m still on the floor. Metaphorically. I guess next month will be about learning to serve God from there. I need to start really believing that he can use me in my mess.
I got in bed that night and asked him how long I’d be here for. He didn’t answer me yet, and it was the kind of silence that let me know he was waiting for me to answer myself. So I reached over for my tablet, which had been plugged in all day, and was frustrated when I saw it was still at 99%(because that’s how far it was when I’d left four hours ago). I asked myself how in the world is it so close to fully charged and taking SO LONG to get that last teeny bit?
Then I laughed. There was God’s answer.
It’s also funny that whenever I give up and unplug it before it gets to 100%, it dies quicker than it would if I’d been patient and let it fully charge.
The point: I keep thinking I’m all better, so I get up and pretend everything’s totally okay. Then a few weeks later I’m a mess again. However this whole grieving process works, I have to be patient and let God charge me up all the way, or else I’ll fall right back down to where I started.
Then I laughed. There was God’s answer.
It’s also funny that whenever I give up and unplug it before it gets to 100%, it dies quicker than it would if I’d been patient and let it fully charge.
The point: I keep thinking I’m all better, so I get up and pretend everything’s totally okay. Then a few weeks later I’m a mess again. However this whole grieving process works, I have to be patient and let God charge me up all the way, or else I’ll fall right back down to where I started.
Keep praying for me; I really hate working through sad things, as much as it’ll help in the end. Pray that I won’t try to do it alone, because shutting my team out is my first instinct, and even more, pray that I won’t shut God out again, because he’s the only way I’ll heal for good.
