Night before last, I went to bed crying. That's been the norm for sometime, so I didn't even bother trying to fight it. I don't even think I prayed. I just cried. I wish I could tell you that, as in times past, I felt Him whisper, "Weep tonight...but joy is coming in the morning." But that wasn't the case. I woke up, plodded through my obligatory time in His Word...that grief still heavy on my chest...feeling like I had to make myself breathe in then breathe back out again. More than once throughout this, I have felt physical pain in my heart, and I have begun to understand why people self-harm. There is no pain like heart pain. Being raised in a "We don't smoke, & we don't chew, & we don't run with boys who do" (except half my family) church, for the first time in my 42 years, I began to understand why people turn to alcohol & substances for relief. I'm really surprised I didn't turn to that myself.
I said all of that to say this - Even though I didn't believe joy was coming, it came. It required a lot of me when it showed up. There have been some hard conversations and admittance of my own wrong-doing, as a result. There has been necessary repentance along with laying down false guilt I obliged myself to carry....because I was so strong. (Extreme sarcasm!) Avoiding confrontation and asking for forgiveness always comes at a great price for believers. For me, it cost me the joy of knowing God loved me...knowing that when my mom laid her hands on me years ago and spoke Isaiah 43:1 & 2 over me, that I am called, I am chosen, and He is with me...that waters won't overflow me and fire will not burn me. Obedience in these areas has lifted a very heavy burden, and while I still have no clue what God is doing or where He is leading, I am moving on in forgiveness and the peace of His Spirit's Presence. I’ve been in this long enough to know that grief ebbs and flows - there will be more sadness over this season because it held great value. I know the grieving process isn’t over and that there will still be bad days, from time to time. But, today I am walking in freedom and I refuse to rob God of the praise He deserves for it.
Yesterday morning, I asked the Lord if He was upset that I talked to Him that way. As clearly as I have ever heard Him speak to my heart, He said, "No...you've just finally learned how to really pray." God isn't waiting for us to impress Him with our lofty or rehearsed prayers. He isn’t proud when we masquerade as children of light. When the light has gone out, we need to fall at His feet and sometimes reach out to other believers. He is waiting for us to be honest about how we feel about all the heartbreak, anger, and loss He has allowed. We’ll usually find that we have some fessing up to do. Some repentance to seek. Some forgiveness to beg. Or maybe just some plain throwing up our hands in surrender to the fact that He is sovereign and is working in ways we will never understand, but can only accept. Maybe this sounds crazy to some who read it. Shoot, it may be crazy to everyone, but please, I beg you - if you're fighting hell, give it to God. You have it on the authority of His Word that He has been there, and He is the only one who can handle it.
