Trust

Confidence

/ walkingthisjourneysite / 4 Comments

I will rest
In Your promises
My confidence
Is Your faithfulness
(Yes and Amen by Housefires)

Regular readers of this blog may have noticed that it fell silent some months ago. This extended break from writing was not intentional on my part but it has been a needed time for me to work through some challenging life issues and heart matters. It has been a season of quiet, as well as, a season of work, wrestling, and waiting. But I noticed that when I did want to try writing again, my words froze — I became almost paralyzed and could not continue. The longer I stayed away from writing, the harder it became to even gather and process through my thoughts. I understood somewhat what might be causing the block in my head but I did not know what to do about it … so I stayed silent. I would rather not speak at all than to speak foolishly.

A couple of weeks ago, I began to pray about my inability to write because quite honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue. The last months have taken the last bit of steam I have had left in me and the future has been weighing heavily on my shoulders. “What is the point of my writing?” I often wondered.

But last evening as I pondered the future once more regarding what lies ahead for my son with autism and myself, I asked the Lord what I could do … and I heard one word, ‘Write.’

And I, foolish person that I can be, argued with Him. “Lord, I don’t know. I’m really not that good of a writer and my style of writing is not what most modern people who call themselves ‘Christian’ want to read. I’ve read the successful blogs and I see who attracts people and readers and Lord, I am just not that person. I don’t want to be. Isn’t there something else I can do … something more hidden and behind the scenes? I just … I just don’t think I can continue. I don’t think I should try to write anymore. I just don’t know.”

Have you ever been in a conversation with God where you can almost hear Him sigh and you can almost see His eyebrow lift as He bestows a fatherly glare upon you?

I tend to get that a lot.

But like the gracious, heavenly Father He is, He did not just give me ‘the look’ but slowly began to enlighten my heart and mind … He began to teach and instruct me in His ways … and He is helping me to understand some things that have been eluding my thoughts.

You see, I have not been able to write because I have lost all confidence. Now you should understand this about me: I am not a confident person. Never in my life has the word confident been applied to me – never. My Pastor is wise to this so years ago he began to tell me that I was capable. Over and over, he used the word capable to describe me and eventually, it began to stick. Eventually I would look at a hurdle or situation and while my first instinct would be one of fear, I was able to say, ‘Hey, I am capable of handling this’ and handle it I would. With that new foundation, I slowly began to build a little confidence as I grew and matured in my faith and that was what allowed me to write here and on social media.

But that confidence slowly dwindled away over these last months/year and once I stopped writing, I could not seem to be able to begin again. Any confidence that was being nurtured in me has since faded and so I did the only thing I know how to do … I grew silent and waited.

Reader, I have lost confidence.

I have lost any confidence in myself.

I have lost confidence in the world around me.

I have lost confidence in many believers.

I have lost confidence in church.

It is a rough place to be for a woman who started life as a Pollyanna of sorts. A girl who was often nick-named ‘Sunshine’ when she was little because her gentle smile glowed. It is perplexing for a girl who grew up in the church and believed if she just ‘hung in there’ and tried to do right, God would make it all okay some day.

But in these last months, I have been navigating through the somewhat bitter reality that it will not be okay … at least not as I thought it would be.

God has not done what I asked of Him. He has not fixed my family and restored any relationship with my siblings. He has not allowed me the community, friendships, nor the safety for which I have longed; In fact, He continues to take more and more away. He has not fixed or changed a broken and dysfunctional marriage but instead, He has caused me to walk alone and to lead my children in His ways while dealing with great loneliness and loss. He has not cured or made the way any easier for my son with autism and as I look at the days ahead once he enters the adult world with limited supports and services, God has actually taken away most of the help and freedom I thought I would have.

At this point of life, my reality is looking pretty bleak and frankly, help and encouragement seem hard to find. The last years of political unrest and pandemic craziness seems to have caused even the strongest Christians I know to become increasingly cynical and calloused. When I have a rare opportunity to share conversation with an adult, it seems as if politics, the pandemic craziness, and vaccines are all that can be talked about. I have grown weary of this.

So last night I lifted my eyes and my heart heavenward as I cried out to God with the sorrows that perplex my soul and He, with all the gentleness and kindness of a gracious Father, showed me that my confidence needs to be in Him and Him alone.

I always believed I couldn’t be safe in this world unless I was loved and accepted fully by others and He has never allowed me that. I always believed I wouldn’t be safe until I was loved and cherished in the marriage setting and He hasn’t allowed that either. I always believed I wouldn’t be safe until my son’s autism was easier and not as hard and perplexing and He has not made the way any simpler. If anything, God has allowed my life to become increasingly more difficult with each passing year and any hope I may have had of earning the love of those around me or attaining some level of confidence in myself has been destroyed in these last months and carried away like ash in the stormy winds.

So what do I have left? How can I lift my head and take the next step when everything seems so uncertain and grim? I can do so by trusting in the faithfulness of God. My confidence as I face each day can only be found in Him and through Him.

The truth is, I have had to learn that things really will be okay but I may never see that until I enter the gates of heaven. The truth is, I am loved but I may never really understand that until I stand before my Savior and see Him face to face. The truth is, in this world we will have trouble and it is a fallacy to think that God is all about making life easy for us so we can be happy and without trouble. The truth is, we can have peace, contentment, happiness, and rest in the fiercest of storms because we can know absolute confidence in Who our God is and that our lives are not about us. This truth stands in absolute defiance to what so many around me seem to believe.

So like a single candlestick that stands alone in a darkened room, God seems to be challenging me to shine His light, even if my thoughts and words flicker uncertainly in the night. He can use the most unimpressive and diminutive light for His glory and His purpose … and that is my confidence.

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
    whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
    that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
    its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
    and never fails to bear fruit.”
Jeremiah 17:7,8

~But As For Me ~

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But as for me, I will watch expectantly for the Lord;
I will wait for the God of my salvation.
My God will hear me.
Micah 7:7

I have been silent here and the silence has been intentional — purposeful. The weeks leading up to Christmas and the end of 2020 were challenging and heavy, not only due to all the stress of the past year and the very different holiday season, but more so because of a dental surgery scheduled for my adult son with autism just a few days after Christmas.

Because of a heavy burden I have long been carrying and the realities that few knew, I entered a season of quiet prayer and waiting. I shared songs and thoughts on social media but I did not share what was driving those meditations and ponderings. I did not share the fear, anxiety, and memories of the past that were hounding me day and night. Truth be told, I needed to see God work. In this past year of one hard thing after another, I needed to see God and Him alone.

My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from Him.
Psalm 62:5

As the weight pressed in, I understood anew how little control I actually have. Matters of life that I have fought so hard to figure out and fix were simply not mine to control. The safety that I struggled to have so I could feel secure was not mine to create. As blow after blow continued to fall and worry began to consume me, I realized there was really only one option left to me ~

Worship.

To worship simply means to express reverence and adoration towards God. To worship God is to ascribe to Him what is true and rightfully His. For years I did not quite understand how I could do that while the sense of fear troubled me so or as tears filled my eyes. I thought that to worship God meant I had to defeat fear and sin first. I thought worship meant I had to always be joyful and radiant.

I’ve come to understand differently.

When the news came to Job that all of his children had been killed and everything he owned was destroyed, his initial response was not a surprise. He tore his clothes, shaved his head, and fell to the ground in grief. But there is a second part to this that I missed before ~ in that place of intense grief and sorrow, Job worshiped.

Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head, and he fell to the ground and worshiped. He said,

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
And naked I shall return there.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God.
Job 1:20-22

Job, in the midst of great sorrow and loss, did the only thing he could ~ he showed reverence and adoration towards God. He ascribed to God what he knew to be true. We can read the beginning verses of chapter one and discover why God allowed such great trouble to touch his life, but Job did not have that knowledge. He did not know the why ~ but he knew Who was in charge.

So he worshiped.

Through Job’s example, I have learned that lifting our hearts and minds in worship, in the midst of difficulty, aligns our soul with the proper perspective that God is in control. It does not mean I will not feel sorrow or grief. It simply means I can ascribe what is true of God while grieving. It does not mean I will not be impacted by the stress and cares of this world. It simply means I can be reverent as I carry my cross. It does not mean I will not cry. It simply means I can lift my eyes in worship, even as they fill with tears. Worshipping God is not about waiting until everything is okay and life feels momentarily safe, but rather, it is about trusting God and praising Him even as the storm clouds gather.

As I considered the story of Job, I realized my only option was to lift my weary soul and tear-filled eyes to the heavens and worship that very same God — the One who is still in charge.

So I worshiped.

Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy.
Though I fall I will rise;
Though I dwell in darkness, the Lord is a light for me.
Micah 7:8

On Sunday, the day before my son’s surgery, I grew overwhelmed. After this past year of crisis after crisis with no breaks or rest in between, I was depleted and exhausted. I felt alone and not the least bit capable of the demands required for an undertaking such as this. No one really understood the history of my son and dentists. Not many knew of the trauma his first dentist caused to both my son and I. Few knew of the harsh words of blame thrown at me that I have carried all these years. Few knew how I tried to find a dentist willing to work with my son or one who would attempt sedation to limit further trauma. Few knew how many times we were turned away. Few knew the weekly drives to a distant dentist office trying to acclimate my son to the environment, to desensitize him to the very place he knew great fear. No one knew of the sleepless nights as I tried to figure out what to do. It has been a lonely battle. In December of 2019, it seemed we were finally going to have help we needed, but, just one week away from a dental sedation appointment with a new dentist at an out-patient surgery center, the anesthesiology team cancelled it. They deemed my son too uncooperative to be seen in their facility. I was heart-broken.

Then 2020 hit with all its nastiness ~ emotional breakdowns, pandemic, shut downs, extended school closures, heart surgery, illness, and hospital stays with my Dad, and so much more. It has been a very hard year.

Near the beginning of December 2020, the Lord reopened a dentistry door and after one email from me to last year’s dental office, He began to move mountains. I learned that the dental office now had hospital privileges and were more than willing to try helping my son again in that setting. I learned that where there had been no openings for almost two months, a surgery slot suddenly became available. In a short period of time, every little detail fell into place with very minimal effort on my part for my son to finally receive the dental help he needed in the environment that was necessary. It was amazing to watch God work.

But I was afraid. Not of the sedation nor the care he would be receive, but I was afraid of my son’s response. I knew it would be hard and I knew it would potentially be ugly. I knew he would fight and I was afraid that his response would hinder him from receiving care as it always has in the past … and if I am honest, I was also afraid more harsh words of guilt would be heaped on my shoulders.

I did what I could do to prepare my son but I knew the one thing I could not control was his response. I could not control his fear or the ensuing behaviors that were sure to follow. This opened the door to worry, which I knew would not help the situation at all.

What I could do instead, however, was worship.

So as fear wrapped its fingers around my throat until I could barely catch my breath, I worshiped. When memories threatened to lash at me once more, I worshiped. Over and over, I entrusted my son and the days ahead to God and I worshiped Him, even as my body trembled at the thought of what was to come.

Full disclosure ~ while certain aspects of his surgery day went surprisingly well, the hours before my son was fully sedated were ugly and difficult. They were every bit as bad as I feared they would be. I feared the anesthesiologist would cancel the procedure because we struggled to get my son safely sedated but he looked me in the eye and told me not to worry. “We’re fine. We’ll get through this and we’ll get him there.”

And we did. The stories I could tell from that day would fill a book. It was hard and at times, quite ugly, but God was there. Every moment of that day is etched on my mind, not only because of the difficulty, but more so because of the love and care that was poured over my son and his weary mother as well.

In a place of impossibility, God made it possible. In a season of despair and weariness, God brought hope and strength. In a situation that was filled with darkness and fear, God brought light and peace.

He will bring me out to the light,
And I will see His righteousness.
Micah 7:9

In the quiet hours of the following morning, as I reflected over the events of the day before, this song of worship filled my soul:

“And I stand, I stand in awe of You
I stand, I stand in awe of You
Holy God to whom all praise is due
I stand in awe of You.”

I can only stand in awe of what God has done.

So my friends, I leave you with this final word as I close the year 2020 ~ As I have pondered the personal hardships I have walked through in this past year, the intense spiritual journey, the desperate loneliness, the hidden sorrows, and ultimately, the great care of a sovereign and holy God, I am left with only one thought to carry me into a new year that will surely be filled with its own uncertainties and trouble ~

But as for me, I will watch expectantly for the Lord ~ and I will worship.

*“I stand in awe” ~ Written by Mark Altrogge

*“Ascribe Greatness to our God” ~ Written by Don Meon

The Reluctant Traveler – An Unexpected Detour

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A few weeks ago I wrote a post entitled, Survival 101 – Probably Not What You Expected. Today’s post is a follow-up to that so you may find it helpful to read (or reread) it before continuing. The key points I mentioned in that piece were Experience, Preparation, and Navigation and how they are absolutely necessary on this journey of life. But what happens when the unexpected happens? When a tsunami-sized wave comes crashing in over us or when our journey faces an unexpected detour? When happens when we are at the very end of our resources and everything seems lost? Come with me as we follow the experience of another traveler who finds herself in exactly that situation.

She lifted her backpack slowly and hoisted it across her weary shoulders, as a grimace of pain lightly crossed over her face. It was a heavy bag but she always carried it with her wherever she went, it was her constant companion. She was a well-seasoned traveler with many miles already logged in, but now she was facing an unexpected detour, a delay that would hinder her from reaching a much-needed shelter, a resting place. Weary though she was, there was nothing she could do but adapt to the ever-changing circumstances and keep going. So with a heavy sigh, the reluctant traveler adjusted the straps on her bag and started walking.

But then more news reached her — the two week detour was going to be extended. It grew to four weeks and then six, without a single rest in sight. Then it went from six to eight weeks. Finally she learned it would be at least five months of non-stop travel before there was even any chance of reaching a place of rest or replenishment. The bag on her back became burdensome, as the days and nights grew longer and discouragement and weariness began to overwhelm her. The journey was hard and what she carried suddenly seemed much too heavy for her to bear.

Her eyes were filled with tears so it is no surprise that she didn’t notice how close she was to the edge of a deep ravine. It only took one distracted moment for her to lose her footing and tumble deep into the darkness, her bag and all its contents breaking open and scattering across the bottom.

Our traveler laid silently on the rocky bottom of the ravine. She hadn’t made a sound as she fell and no one knew the danger she was in. She didn’t have the strength even now to call for help and she didn’t believe anyone would care anyway. So she curled up and settled into a troubled sleep as the darkness descended like a blanket covering her.

For days she lay huddled on the ground, unable to move and no longer caring whether she lived or died. The journey had proven to be too much for her and the detours had taken her to her very limit. The bag which had been with her all her life had become a burden, much too heavy for her to carry anymore. She looked at its contents strewed across the ground and she began to understand the absurdity of the weight she carried. Her bag had been filled with memories of her travels, relics of the past, and the weight of them alone was too much for her to bear. Her situation seemed dire, even hopeless, as the sense of abandonment and loneliness threatened her every thought.

But one morning, just as all seemed lost and her body and spirit began to fail, a gentle wind came whispering through the valley that held her captive, echoing with these words,

“Remember my misery and my homelessness,
the wormwood and bitterness.
My soul certainly remembers,
And is bent over within me.“

And remember she did.

She looked around her until she found where her well-used guide book had fallen. It had been some time since she had bothered to read it, but she knew where those words came from and suddenly she remembered where to find help. She crawled to the book, carefully opened its worn pages, and tearfully began to read the rest …

“I recall this to my mind,
Therefore I wait.
The Lord’s acts of mercy indeed do not end,
For His compassions do not fail.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.”
Lamentations 3: 19-23

This is when our weary and broken traveler knew she was going to be rescued. She didn’t know how and she didn’t know where the strength would come from to follow the voice that whispered in the wind, but in this moment of deep despair, her rescue had begun.

Can you relate to the reluctant traveler in the story above? I think after the year we’ve had, all of us can to a certain degree for it has certainly been filled with detours and challenges.

During the summer, I wrote a post simply entitled, Rescued. After I wrote that, someone asked me what the story was behind it but I never was able to answer that question, largely because I was still very much in the battle. I was still in the process of being rescued.

What I didn’t understand until recently, however, was that I wasn’t being rescued from danger, but rather, the danger was my rescue.

Hang on, I’ll try to explain.

With March of 2020, there came a huge detour in life; It affected everybody. No one was exempt although I think it is safe to say, it impacted each of us differently.

For me personally, it has been a hard detour, one that followed a very long series of other detours. But tell me, what would you say if I told you those detours, although hard and often soul-crushing, were actually for my good? Would you understand if I said that the path I am on, even though it is not a path I want or would have chosen, is the one God chose for me, therefore, it is good?

What if I told you the things that are the hardest in my life
are the very things God is using to rescue me?

I grew up in church, Bible-believing churches, all through my youth and young adult years. I asked Jesus into my heart as a child. I attended every church service (and there were A LOT) and I participated in every child and youth ministry. I served in the church in almost every capacity from my youngest years. Church was my life — it was my community.

I was a believer and by all appearance, a ‘good Christian girl’, but on the inside I struggled terribly. I was afraid all of the time, vulnerable to all kinds of things and people, and prone to searching for a sense of safety/security wherever I could find it. I was an empty shell of a person, always seeking identity, validation, and love. I was on a path that was clearly heading away from God, although I would have denied that at the time.

When I was 21, one of the first real ‘detours’ of my adult life hit. I moved into my first apartment and lost my home church (through a difficult church-split type of situation), all in one weekend. Losing my church meant losing my entire community that had been in place since I was a very young child.

That life detour led to another detour … and then another. What seemed like speed bumps on the road at the time, proved to be life-altering changes that led me on a path I never intended for myself.

Like the traveler in my story, I’ve carried a bag on my life’s journey and it too has been an often heavy, burdensome piece to carry. At various points of my journey in the past, the Lord has caused detours to come my way that helped me begin to understand how heavy that bag was and how useless much of the contents were. The longer the detour, the harder the path I had to walk, the more I noticed and fell beneath the weight of the baggage I carried. What was all in the bag I carried? Fear, bad memories, legalistic thinking, hurts and wounds from the past, guilt, shame, poor Biblical teaching and understanding, and a incorrect view of God and who I am in Him … and much more. It’s a bag I kept hidden for years because I was so ashamed of the contents it held inside.

But as the detours of life continued and as the intensity of my journey increased, the Lord began to deal with the contents of my bag, sifting through the nonsense and replacing junk thinking with His truth. Over the years, through this work of the Holy Spirit, the weight of the bag has grown significantly lighter.

But over this past summer, the detour that hit my life proved to be especially grueling, with little to no support or reprieve from the intensity. I was weary and grew distracted from the weight I was carrying and, as a result, I took a wrong step and tumbled down into a steep ravine. Just like the weary traveler in my story, the remaining contents of my bag went flying through the air, scattering across the ground.

For a time I laid still, also not caring whether I lived or died. The journey had been much too hard for me and the burden on my shoulders too heavy to carry. The darkness of the night covered my soul in deep silence even as I carried on outwardly with the responsibilities of life.

I would have stayed there for I had lost any will to fight … but God.

But God.

Down in the ravine where I was hidden from view and completely alone, God stepped into the darkness and brought His light. He gathered some of the wretched contents of my bag and began to show me the absurdity of the things I carry. Remnants of a broken past tampered with my own understanding, instead of His. Then, as the old hymn says, ‘I traced His rainbow through the rain…’ and in the quiet of the night, I began to see the detours of my past from His perspective, instead of my own…

I saw beauty. I saw love. I saw discipline. I saw the protection of a sovereign and holy God towards one of His more vulnerable, yet stubborn, children. I saw grace, immeasurable grace. I was humbled as I sat in silence at the feet of my Savior.

All the detours that, from my perspective, made life so much harder and different from what I wanted, were actually the paths my Father laid out for me to bring me to a place of rescue.

Rescue from myself and my own sin tendencies. Rescue from a faulty understanding of who He is and who I am in Him. Rescue from a life lived in constant fear of others.

Reader, the hard things in my life that I so often fight against and resent, are the very things God is using to transform me into the image of His Son.

He is using the dangers and detours of this life to rescue me.

So where does that leave me now? Well, I’m not sure honestly. The last couple of months have been a slow process of climbing out of the deep ravine with the steady assistance and care of a loving Shepherd who will leave the 99 to find the one that is lost. Life continues to be uncertain, challenging, and wearisome and I am not sure what lies ahead for me or what direction my path will take. So I endeavor to take each day one step at a time, trusting in Him to lead me in the direction He wants me to go.

Reader, I shared all this to challenge you — Whatever path you find yourself on, whatever detour seems to have changed the trajectory of your journey, you may find it helpful to look to the Savior. Could it be that He has a purpose for the detours and hard things in your life too?

Don’t waste the detours.

Oh, the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
 How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways!
Romans 11:33