You have no idea how busy my week is… I am embarrassed to tell you how messy my house is and the laundry is, well, nearing completion and I am finding clothing I’d forgotten…
Yeah. Just. Wow.
I just had to sit down and write a few thoughts. And use multiple ellipses. Because ellipses are the unspoken hypothetical question.
I am amazed. At the richness of my life. At the goodness of God. At the immense kindness He has shown me in allowing me opportunities to struggle and even to be beaten up.
I know that sounds weird.
Let me ‘splain. No, there is no time. Let me sum up. $20 for the miscellaneous Princess Bride quote. 🙂
Recently, I spoke to some dear friends that have lived out of the area for several years and were not a part of my process when the Lord delivered us, albeit with a few broken bones and crushed egos, from That Place. If you’ve read here for the last few years, you’ll know of whence I speak.
I gave them a hyper-caffeinated, hyper-social synopsis and was willing to leave it at that. But, since I really do care about these folks and I believed I had left a less than accurate representation of both my part in the saga of retardation and perhaps had not been as clear about certain other aspects of that situation, I gave them the link to the pages where I painstakingly detailed that Story. And then I really didn’t think about it. I think they’ve read it by now, due to some vague Sitemeter gobbledygook, but can’t be certain.
The folks at That Place are weird on many levels. Occasionally, I will hear stuff and it’s just sad to me how deluded they’ve become in their search for meaning and purpose via their own efforts and understanding. How focused they have become on the adoration and accolades of their “followers”. Because that’s what Yeshua would do, right? They are so lost.
Every few months I’ll hear of someone else who left broken and hurting. Still. Almost 3 years later.
But, as I read through it again, because I’m addicted to introspection, I suppose, I was struck over and over by one fairly odd thought. At least, I thought it odd.
How blessed I am that the Lord led us through that. How thankful I am that He didn’t leave us there but led us beyond it into this time of sweet peace. I can’t even be angry at those who were instrumental in the formation of that particular battle. I don’t know if we won, if our sacrifice meant anything.
I no longer feel the responsibility to “sound the alarm” but if someone asks me about attending? I will tell them that there are other, safer, much healthier, ways to experience the Biblical Feasts and I encourage them to not attend.
My family is secure and strong. My children have healthy friendships with other children who like them for themselves. They have gained some wisdom, through their own experiences, that is bearing good fruit in discernment and contemplation of what constitutes a “good friend” or even a healthy acquaintance. How can I not be thankful for that evidence of God’s Hand? Right?
Tonight, as I rehearsed at my smokin’ awesome Roland digital Piano that my Mr. bought for me a couple years ago, I couldn’t control the tears.
The song was “I Will Rise” by Chris Tomlin.
I first heard that song the summer after we left, were booted. Whatever.
And as I croaked out those words, in faith, 2 1/2 years ago, it seemed impossible that I would ever be much more than broken and battered.
There’s a peace I’ve come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There’s an anchor for my soul
I can say “It is well”
Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead
And tonight I sat and played and cried and was overwhelmed with thankfulness. For the struggle. For the pain. For the growth. For the expanded compassion I have for the Body and a significantly deeper understanding of the responsibility we hold toward each other. Not leader to laity but brother to sister. Friend to friend. How precious and heavy that burden is that we bear for one another. And irreplaceable and significant are those who walk along beside you.
With a closed up throat and mascara smudges, I whispered the chorus:
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles’ wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise, I will rise
And from my knees, I will attest. I can rise. But only when He calls me. And only as He directs.
My heart is overwhelmed. I know I haven’t communicated this as clearly as I’d hoped. But I just had to share. For those of you who’ve watched from the sidelines and witnessed my struggle.
He has overcome. And it’s His peace that I’ve come to know.
I’ll probably fall all over myself tomorrow. I’m ridiculous more often than not. Yet, I know whom I have believed. And I am persuaded…
And incredibly thankful for the blessing of a God who did not leave me as I was, who led me through a wilderness I would not have chosen and who has transformed so much of what I have failed to understand into a character I didn’t even know was possible.