Can I be still in the face of the storm?

I see the thoughts of doom and gloom like whirlwinds encompassing me, luring me to run and take cover.  I’ve learned the art of survival through a lifetime of struggle – one problem is fixed just to bring me to the next obstacle that I must face.  But like a “do it yourself” youtube video with before-and-after pictures of a masterpiece that we desire, the results are never quite to par with our imagination of completion.  My way never works out to plan.

In the life of Jesus as he led his disciples, I’m reminded of the story of him traveling with them in a boat.  As the waves and wind and rain increased, the disciples became frightened.  Meanwhile, Jesus slept.  When absolute fear had overcame the disciples, they woke him up screaming, “Do you not care that we’re all going to die?”  Jesus replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?”

Today I can almost place myself in that boat with them as I stare at this storm coming upon my family.  I see no shore in sight, (no way out, no answers).  And as my mind thumbs through possibilities, searching for solutions, my heart is continually crying out to the Lord “Where are you?  Save us.  Why aren’t you speaking to me and telling me how to fix this?”  He remains silent.

Like the disciples, I’ve seen the Lord perform miracles in our lives.  I’ve tasted of His goodness and His grace and His mercy.  I’ve witnessed His perfect arrangement of circumstances that are far too clever and purposeful to be considered coincidence.  Yet here I sit with my heart troubled, asking myself “Where did He go?  Did he fall asleep and forget about me?  Is He going to save me this time, like he has in the times before?  What if He doesn’t wake up in time?  What if these waves cause me to drown?

26 He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

27 The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!”

– Mathew 26

The Lord said He will never leave us or forsake us.  He said all things work together for the good for those who are called according to his purpose.  So, then, why is it so hard to see through life’s storms and believe it won’t take us under?

Heavenly Father, today I ask you to give me eyes to see beyond the things that are troubling me.  I ask you to help me to rest in faith, remembering all the times that you have helped me and believing that you will help me again.  Lord I know that you can make a way, when there is no way, but help me with my unbelief.  Even if I can’t hear you, even it seems like you’ve fallen asleep, remind me always that you’re right here next to me in this boat and that you will not let me drown.  Father as I tell myself to “be still and know that you are God”, please give me the patience and peace and faith that I need to make it through this storm.  I pray that your will be done in our lives and that our purpose you have called us to will bring glory to your name.

In Jesus name… Amen.

 

 

 

Carrying My Cross

When I opened a small marketing business many years ago my company slogan was “image is perception”.  I’m not even sure where I came up with it idea, but the slogan has proved to play a role that deeply has ruled in my life.  I guess I’ve always carried the ability of “make believe”, or “fake it until you make it”.  I bought into a philosophy that if we project success we will find success.  Even now, nearly two years after Josh went down, sometimes I feel like a broken record feeding the same answer every time someone asks, “how are y’all doing?”.. I say “great!”..  Then I change the subject to take the focus off of me.  My Granny was like that.  Right or wrong, she never wanted people to know when she was hurting.

As I write this entry with a heavy chest and a face full of tears, I ask myself what I’ve gained by pretending to be OK.  Will I keep pretending I’m OK if we lose our home? – which seems to be unavoidable at this point.  And I search to understand what purpose would that serve?  I have two teenagers and a disabled husband with special needs.  What does a homeless family of 4 (already broken physically and emotionally) look like?  Why would God allow this to happen to us?  Haven’t we been through enough?
I know without a doubt that by His grace and His grace alone we’ve made it this far.  Josh lost his job immediately when he had the stroke – living in a hospital unable to speak or think or even raise his head up – let alone pick up his paralyzed body to drive a truck to work and support his family.  Right away Perry Homes put Josh on unpaid leave, then terminated him 6 months later.  They didn’t give him the bonuses he’d earned up that point – they didn’t even send a card to the hospital.   It’s just business I guess.  Then, they dropped our insurance.  And as we were sent home with no help, I had to care for Josh 24/7 – so I didn’t have many options.  But I had a wonderful idea how to make it work!
I worked fast while we were living in the med center to form a plan to keep my real estate business going – putting together a team of family to handle my clients while I couldn’t.  In the following months the Lord gave us so much help – selling all of my accrued listings and giving us income to stay afloat.  I re-branded my new team “79 Luxury Homes” in honor of the place where I’d found the Lord – in Josh’s ICU room (room # 79), and I had so much hope and excitement about the new business plan.  I had decided that I would take all of the compassion I’d been given through our trials and truly love my customers – work from my heart, not motivated by the money, and I’d care about their lives and their needs on a level I wasn’t able to before.  I’d take that the testimony of our troubles and turn it into a success story of making it through even the most impossible circumstances.
It all sounded so great, (my plan).  When I got my first listing call after Josh’s stroke, my mother-in-law sat in for me with Josh so I could take the appointment.  It was a referral from a previous client.  The couple was really nice, they went on and on about how highly their friend had spoken of me.  I got my mom to help out while I worked with stagers and photographers to get the house listed.  Then, less than a week after the listing went public, the home owner called me to tell me that her and her husband had decided to fire me because of my husband’s stroke  – she said that they felt I should spend my time caring for my husband, instead of trying to sell her home – despite the work was already done to list her home at that point.  I tried to explain that I’d already launched everything necessary.  I also told her that I was our only source of income now and I desperately needed the business – I promised her that I would work very hard for her.  But, she cut me off in mid sentence and said, “I’ve prayed about this and we’re firing you.”  I asked her, “What about all the money I just invested in your home?  Will you at least reimburse my expenses spent on you?”  She said, “Well, we never gave you back the signed contract so we have no obligation to pay you anything.”
I fought back the tears that were clearly hindering my ability to speak and whispered, “ok, God bless you,” then hung up the phone… I sat there holding my phone, crying on the floor asking the Lord why this was happening.  I thought about her answer, which made no sense to me.  She prayed and then decided to fire me?  Was she suggesting that God answered her prayer by telling her to stiff me for $1,000 I’d spent to list her home and then fire me for no reason?  She didn’t even give me a chance – how come the Lord didn’t tell her how amazing I am at real estate?  Didn’t she read my reviews and research my success in this business?  Didn’t she listen to her friend that had referred her to me in the first place?  “No one works harder than me God.   I never lose clients.  Why would this happen to me now?”
That was only the beginning of a theme I would soon get used to in the months to come.  I’ve met some wonderful people and had a few closings here and there – clients that are now my friends.  Some of them even call me occasionally for advice and to talk about God.  But the little business that I’ve been able to mustard up was just enough to tread water and buy us a little time.  For the most part, I’ve painfully watched my vision of 79 luxury homes (named after Josh’s ICU room number), dwindle away to nothing.
I guess I was onto something back in my 20’s when I came up with the slogan “image is perception.”  The image of what I used to be is what people wanted – to say they’ve hired the realtor that had a picture-perfect life – the successful, top of the charts lady that didn’t wear any flaws for the world to see.  Now I’m the lady with a broken life that brings her husband along to showings in his wheelchair.  I guess this isn’t the image of success that people are drawn to.
Folks in this community used to look at me with such respect.  They’d say, “oh you’re Jodi, the realtor that sells all those beautiful luxury homes.”  Now they look at me like a wounded bird to be pitied from a distance.
Jesus told the disciples “the world will hate you because it hated me first.”  I used to read this and visualize people spitting and screaming and throwing stones at his disciples as they preached the Gospel.  But as I sift through the ruins of our life today, His words reveal new meaning to me – I see us, as a modern day example of those rejected by a world where we just don’t seem to belong anymore.
People used to invite us to parties and gatherings.  We would show up to our son’s games and parents would come sit with us (people loved to talk sports with Josh, especially as he coached many of these boys since they were little).  Now when we go out in public, we just get stared at like we’re of another species.  Josh tells me sometimes how uncomfortable it makes him the way everyone stares and whispers as we go by.  And when we’re not in public, it’s like we no longer exist at all.  None of our old friends call us anymore.  No one checks in to see how we’re doing.  Even our own family seem worlds away most of the time.  If our phone rings it all, it’s usually our kids – with the exception of my mother.  She checks on me every night before she goes to bed.  I thank the Lord daily for her support, her comfort and love.
The word of God says to carry each-other’s burdens.  But living in a broken world, the evidence of Christ in us isn’t always easy to see.  I think about the crucifixion of Jesus and I’m baffled by it, I really am.  How could all those people (even the ones he taught, and fed and healed them of sickness), stand by and watch him go through such anguish – many even cheering on his demise.  Not one stood up for him – even Peter denied him 3 times.  Yet he loved us anyway.  He died for us anyway and He even begged the Father to forgive us in the midst of his suffering.

Jesus said to follow Him we must pick up OUR cross.  I’ve heard that said so many times as a point of instruction.  “Well, just pick up your cross and follow him.” – sounds so simple when spoken without context,  but what does it mean really?  And why did his death have to be so cruel and so publicized for all to witness and take part in the story that would be told for the next 2,000 years? What if taking up your cross is to walk in shoes of utter distress, accepting the rejection of everyone around you – while speaking the words, “forgive them Father.”  What if taking up your cross is accepting that no matter how much it hurts, it’s purposed for His name’s sake?  Jesus said what we do to the least of these we do to Him.  I guess “the least of these” has to be someone…  I just never thought it would us.
 Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25 For whoever would save his life[a] will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 26 For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?
Paul didn’t write letters saying “hey look, I’m following Jesus and everything’s great!”…  He told the truth.  He told about his beatings, he told about those who opposed him and he told about his struggles and his persecution and his imprisonment.  He didn’t hide his cross in some make believe fantasy that would make him acceptable to the broken world that rebuked his very existence.
As I ponder these things, I ask myself, “Who I am to pretend everything will be ok – to hide my cross from the world?”  And I wonder, why do I keep making plans to fix something too heavy for me to bare?  Why do I feel so defeated that 79 isn’t working out like I’d hoped?  Why do I struggle to hold onto things that my hands aren’t big enough to hold?
I know there are people all over this world today hurting.  There are people starving and thirsty and cold.  There are people hopeless and defeated, drowning in great despair.
Lord I pray that I’m strong enough to accept your will for my life, no matter how hard this cross may to carry.  I see that every plan of mine has failed, over and over again.  And here I sit, reminded that I have no control over my life.  You know how much we’ve hurt and how much we’ve lost.  If I am to lose more, help me to do it with love in my heart.  Help me to never let this world turn me bitter and to keep surrendering all of me until I have nothing left of me, and am filled with only you.  Jesus you are the author of my story and finisher of my faith.  In you, I will trust.
In Jesus name.  Amen.

Laying it down AGAIN

The last couple of months have been difficult in a new kind of struggle.  It seems like the highs and lows of unthinkable circumstances keep me grasping at the moments I felt God the most.  I’ve had so many of those highs and there’s an invisible wall that I’ve built up again – clinging to a half-truth.

I was talking to a pastor online through a chat system shortly after Hurricane Harvey came through.  I remember that day feeling overwhelmed by the destruction and uncertainty in others lives – namely my mother and my uncle.  He had lost everything in the flood.  And while my mother wasn’t impacted physically by water in her home, the new business she’d recently bought was in a stand-still post flood.  I wanted to help them but I have nothing to give, other than compassion and prayers.

Maybe allowing myself to grieve on the account of others was a way of grieving for my own circumstances that I struggle to face.  I know the Lord has done miracles in our lives and I fight to keep looking forward for the next one to come, reminding myself that wavering faith can’t release the word of God over my life.

As I vented to this pastor, I could feel the deep anguish and worry battling to the surface – like everything I felt inside was screaming to come out and yell, “I need help!”

In the middle of my rant, tears flowing down my face over my keyboard as I typed violently on my laptop spilling out the sorrows of my heart’s concerns, I looked up to take a deep breath and read the pastor’s short and direct response to me.

He said he rebuked my complaining and paraphrased the story of the Israelite’s, who murmured and complained, angering God as he led them through the wilderness to the promise land.

Shock and shame came over me.  I quickly excused myself from the conversation, shut my laptop and laid down to sob – crying out to the Lord to forgive me for venting about my troubles.  I felt so ashamed that I had allowed myself to be so vulnerable – to cry out to someone who I didn’t even know for guidance and help.  That pastor had put me in my place and made feel like I was working against God through my moment of weakness in murmuring and complaining, rather than thanking the Lord, “praising Him in the storm.”

Maybe that was the turning point of a shadow that would grow darker over me day by day.  I wake up to each morning and ask the Lord to show me how to be a servant to Him – how to give him the Glory in my life and to speak positive things to others, even when I feel weak myself.

Meanwhile, what started as random panic attacks that came once every few weeks has turned into almost a daily occurrence.  I struggle to make it through each day, praying for the Lord to take the dizziness and nauseousness away.  I keep telling myself that the heart palpitations, chest pains and breathing problems are all a lie – a figment of my imagination that can’t be in my body.  But each time I go down, shaking and crying and unable to breathe, I feel more ashamed with myself.  I question what has happened to my faith?  How could I be going through such overwhelming anxiety when the Lord doesn’t give the spirit of fear?  Had I stepped outside of the Lord’s will?  Had I done something wrong against Him to deserve these new struggles?  And how can I continue to take care of Josh when my own body is beginning to fail?

Last night I picked up a book called “When I lay My Isaac Down”.  I must have read that book for 5 hours straight, crying more intense with each page that I turned.  As I read through this mother’s heartbreaking story about her son, I could feel her pain as if it were my own testimony.  I know where pain that like comes from – I know the hopelessness she felt and the despair that lingers as days turn to months and on to years, and hanging by a thread becomes commonplace – a new way of everyday life.

There was one chapter, specifically that just shook me with such intense emotion.  She talked about the story in the Bible of Lazerus’ death.  And she examined the meaning behind the shortest, but most powerful scripture to her – “Jesus wept.”  Jesus, the Son of God cried!  He felt sorrow!  He felt pain!  …..  “He wept”.

But, how can I be a testimony of the goodness of God, if I’m walking around crying and complaining?  I’ve asked myself that question, like a voice of authority inside my own head demanding that I hold back my tears, force a smile even when it seems impossible and carry the Joy of Jesus with me wherever I go.  But reading that chapter last night, I realized what a fraud I am.  I saw the fault in my make-believe reality (a costume I wear for the world to see), pretending everything is so great and we are doing so good, when in reality I’m screaming out for help on the inside – repeating the same mistakes I’ve made most of my life – bottling up my problems and wishing them away.

Yes, I lay down my troubles before God in the privacy of my heartfelt prayers, but then I keep that secret place of humility hidden from the world around me.  And with each day that passes, I wonder why no help comes.

Pride is my worst enemy – always has been, and I’m still fighting that battle today, as much as ever.  And even though I’ve told myself I’m fighting it for the Kingdom of God, I’ve continued to hide the truth, waiting for a breakthrough that ends my testimony the way “I” think it should go.  I tell myself, “surely the Lord won’t allow us to lose our home”.  “Surely, he doesn’t want me and Josh and our two kids homeless – surely he gave us all the resources to make this house handicapped accessible for Josh to have the care he needs while recovering from this awful stroke”…  I tell myself help is on the way.

So, I see this ending the way I think it should go and I convince myself over and over that everything is going to be perfect if I can just hold on to my faith for one more day.  If “I” can just BELIEVE with unwavering faith.  How did I get so prideful of my own ability to wish things into existence?  Who the heck am I?  Why do I keep falling into this delusion that I can WILL anything to be the way I want it to be?

I went to bed crying last night and I woke up crying this morning.  I’m hurting badly and I know the Lord sees me, but does anyone else?  Am I disobedient to complain and murmur, as the Pastor said?  Am I disobedient to let other see me falling apart?  And if so, why did JESUS WEEP?  Maybe its OK to lose everything because HE gave everything for us.  Maybe its OK to throw my hands in the air and say “I’m not strong enough to do this Lord and I have NO answers to the problems we face.”  Maybe it’s time for me weep again, carrying the cross I didn’t choose, but am appointed to bare.

I think about the definition given by others of a “Christian Martyr”, and wonder if the variations are misunderstood – maybe I am a modern day martyr in an emotional fight against the will of God, still trying to hold onto a plan that makes no sense to me, instead of accepting the sacrifices my heart must make.  Maybe I need to lay it down again, just like I did in those powerless moments when I knew that nothing in this world could save Josh’s life – only GOD.

At the end of the day, God let Josh live.  He did it!  If everything else falls apart, I am forever grateful for that one answered prayer.  Maybe that huge victory (that thing I cried out for the most – “Please Father Let him Live!”) – maybe that one, very important, answered prayer will be enough to get us through what we must face next.  And whatever happens to us now – no matter how broken I may feel, and no matter how hopeless tomorrow may seem, I pray that I can just lay it down, accept it, cry when I need to cry, scream out when I need to scream out, sit in the pit of my misery feeling alone and abandoned by this world and fall to pieces every single day if I have to, knowing that the Lord will pick up those pieces and take my tears as an acceptable sacrifice for His Glory.

Father please help me to walk this out in truth.  Please help me to accept whatever plans you have for us and to stop playing a game of righteousness in hopes that a door will open to solve all of our problems.  Help me to admit that I’m not strong enough and take my tears as an acceptable sacrifice of praise, when I’m not strong enough to raise my hands in joy.  Father, forgive me for trying to will my own idea of solutions into existence and help me to accept whatever valley I’m required to walk through for your name’s sake.  Thank you for the blood of Jesus and that hope that I hold onto that one day, there will be no more tears, no more pain, no more sickness and disability, no more bills to pay, no more flesh to sacrifice and no more obstacles to overcome.  One day we will be home and I thank you Lord for the saving grace of what you’ve already done to make a way for us to find HOME.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Psalm 56:8 – You have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle Are they not in Your book?