Guilt, Lies, and Desperation

April 10, 2014: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

Can you be kinda desperate? I mean, when I think of what it means to feel desperate, it feels pretty definitive. Not a wishy-washy, on the fence kind of feeling. Yet, when I examine my state of mind and heart today, "kinda desperate" seems to fit.

I hit the wall full force today. I don't like that my grade group team saw me crumble. In fact, I don't like that anyone sees me crumble. I came home exhausted, emotional, and discouraged. Then I began to listen to lies only the enemy would take pleasure in… I began to hear in my heart that if I wasn't so needy then my husband wouldn't have to work so hard. I mean, wouldn't he be better off without me? Then it was a lie about my parenting. If I was a good mom, my girls wouldn't struggle. If it weren't for having had my stupid surgery, I'd be normal and could take care of myself and everyone else. I'm not worth the effort. My family deserves better. Okay, reading that? Ummm, desperate. No "kinda" about it.

So…what now? I'm doing what I always try to do when in this place. I look to God's word. Among the verses that I came across today are:

• Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose." 
• Psalms 40:2-3 "He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps. He has put a new sound in my mouth -- Praise to our God; many will see it and fear, and will trust in the Lord." 
• Jeremiah 17:7 "But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him."

Comfort? Yes. But admittedly I feel guilt too. I am beating myself up a little bit that, even though I know His truth, I still feel "kinda desperate" on days. I want to read the precious words of my Father and instantly lift my face to the sky refreshed and awash in hope. Instead I cry, try to express it in words to K., fail miserably and give up, and tonight, journal about it. Those are not really the words I want to be typing. I want a "Kum-by-ah" moment and I'm not getting it. So what happens next? Well, I hear the whisper of another lie: I just have to try harder.

So, kinda desperate is my pitstop tonight. I honestly can't imagine doing anything about it, but I think I understand a little bit about the place others find themselves in when they believe that death is the only solution. Again, I don't think about ending my life, but I wonder how far a jump it is from where I am to where my friend L. was when she chose to end her precious, beautiful days on earth.

And another thing. (Wait. I feel another post coming on. One in which I list all the many reasons I feel guilt.) Oh Lord, I'm weak, but You are strong. I can confess these feeling of desperation to you, yet I wonder how to move past them. I want only to be desperate for YOU. Give me wisdom, Father. Amen.

Pivoting on Prayer

January 6, 2014: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

When I think about it, I'm restlessly moving these days, but not really going anywhere. I've been frustrated by that, but this evening I've started to question my thinking. After all, where am I supposed to be going? My life and all the things I need to do, are surrounding me, all within reach. That can feel frantic, but it can be strategic too. I picture a basketball player picking up his dribble. For the rest of that possession, he can only pivot. He can go any direction from that pivot point, but the foot must remain planted. A pivot, while not always the most productive position to be in, can allow a player time to see options, read the opponent, and buy time while a better play opens up.

I think I'm pivoting these days. A year ago I was dribbling along the court of life, just happy to be in the game. My health, and eventual surgery caused a big pause. I still have the ball, but I'm not able to move forward any more right now. This is my time to look at options, survey the opponent, and wait for my God to show me a better play.

I have felt a terrible amount of guilt with this pause. I'm not able to serve in all the capacities I'd like to. I'm not able to do all the things I'm used to being able to do as a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a teacher, or as a friend. I could spend the evening listing the things I can't do, and still not have enough time to name them all. But, my God… Yes, my God is able to do exceedingly, abundantly more than I could ask or even imagine (Ephesians 3:20). So, what does that mean for me right now?

I'm planting my foot in prayer. I'm trusting that the God who CAN, will. I'm choosing to have faith that my gracious Lord will show this girl how to pivot gracefully and strategically. I'm praying that He will direct my next move. Maybe I'm supposed to pass something (or some things) off to someone else. Maybe I'm supposed to take a shot and let go of the ball I'm holding so fiercely. Maybe I'm just supposed to keep waiting for the right opportunity, while guarding myself against the attacks of my opponent. Waiting is hard for me. I don't like the stopping motion because it feels unproductive and useless. What might I learn in this pause? What lessons are waiting for me right here?

It's yet another practice in patience; another opportunity to get quiet and to listen. As long as my foot stays planted in prayer, I believe with my whole heart that the answers will come and God's next play for me will become clear. If I pick up my foot, I risk forfeiting the position God has placed me in. And who knows if He has placed me here for such a time as this? (Esther 4:14) Thankfully, there is no game clock ticking down. I'm going to try to adjust to God's timing during this season, not my own.

"Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen." Ephesians 3:20-21

Here We Go

January 2, 2014: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

Two weeks of rest. That's what the last 13 days were supposed to be. It was Christmas break and I pledged to take a true break from anything related to school. I expected to feel like a new person after the break. I'm sad to say that I don't. I'm sad, but after the way God has begun to break through the hardness of my heart, I'm not without hope. Maybe it's best to say that I'm scared; scared that I won't be ready to resume my work schedule, my responsibilities, my life. I'm worried that I won't effectively take what God is teaching me and put it into practice. I'm nervous I'm going to fall right back into a life of fret, unrest, and frustration.

God has put my heart at peace over this break, even if my body is still weary. Will I reflect the new thing He is doing in me? Or will I appear to be the same, exhausted girl I was when I locked my classroom door 13 days ago? Part of that depends on what I choose to do. Will I choose to stop and thank Him frequently throughout the day, acknowledging the blessings He has rained down on me? Will I choose to focus on the King of Kings and the Prince of Peace rather than my circumstances? Will I get quiet before Him so that I can hear the voice of my Shepherd? And let's get real for a moment…since I know that I am most susceptible to the enemy's schemes when I'm exhausted, will I choose to stop and rest when I need to?

Tomorrow I start back to work and feel unrested and unprepared for the work ahead. I'm struggling with how to pray tonight, God. Please hear my heart even though my words are failing me. Thank you for being faithful. Thank you for loving me. Thank you that your grace is sufficient. Amen

Mercy in the Morning

December 30, 2013: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

His mercies are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness! (Lamentations 3:22-23)

I began my quest last night with a list of ten questions I ached to have answers for. The next hours were spent scouring scriptures, reading devotionals and commentaries, and praying fervently for answers. I began and ended with Micah 7:7: "Therefore I will look to the LORD; I will wait for the God of my Salvation. My God will hear me." I was clinging desperately to the hope that His Word would not fail me. At that vulnerable, heart-broken place I found myself, God began to minister to my heart. In the quiet I sensed His sweet presence wash over me. I became overwhelmed by His love for His undeserving daughter. Here are a few of the things He blessed me with in the late, late hours…

• Zephaniah 3:17: He quiets me with His love and rejoices over me with singing.
• Psalms 16: Because He is with me, I need not be shaken. In His presence is fullness of JOY!
• Psalms 46: I'm reminded of His sufficiency, my security in Him, and His supremacy so that I can “be still” and let Him be God.
• Matthew 11:28-30: I am weary and He gives rest… My burdens belong with Him.
• Psalms 23: I can know and trust in the goodness of my Shepherd.
• Psalms 40: He brings me out of the horrible pit and gives me firm footing and a new song to sing. 

When I first settled in for this "Face-time" with God, I imagined that I would pen my questions and at the end of my time with Him, I'd be able to write out the answers I received. The funny thing is, I didn't receive one answer to my questions. But I certainly did hear from my sweet Lord. He gave me peace (something I've been missing terribly these days!) and has begun a healing in my heart. I was so angry last night…something I haven't felt since this journey began nine months ago. I was able to talk with my Father about that. He wiped the tears from my eyes and held me close. He opened His word to me in ways I've missed recently. He restored my perspective. He patiently reminded me of His sovereignty. 

I know this marks a change in my path. It's not a new journey, nor is this a promise that the hardest part is behind me (though I wouldn't mind if that were true). For today, I will just be grateful that His mercies are new every morning and that He is faithful.

Shaken

December 29, 2013: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

Hi. I'm Jill and I'm a liar. [Insert your own "Hi, Jill." here.]

At the advice of my big brother, I sat down to revisit the journal of my journey before and just after my brain surgery. I have been avoiding it for some time now. The truth of it is that I have felt so frustrated, so weak, so exhausted, so... blech for so long that I have realized just how shaken I have become. I began this journal as a statement embracing and celebrating Psalms 16:8 in which the Psalmist says, "I will not be shaken." And yet, I'm the poster child for all rattled things everywhere. I've been running from that truth for months and I think somewhere deep inside my innards, I knew that I'd have to face that ugly fact if I revisited the journal of pre-surgery me. And I was right. 

I feel a little bit beat up right now, and for so many reasons. I feel I've been pummeled by waves of guilt, trampled by a herd of unfulfilled expectations, and slowly poisoned by the lies of the enemy that say that I'm supposed to have everything together. (Oh, how I hate him!) I've allowed myself to believe that my weakness is letting God, my family, my friends, and my students down. Instead of embracing and celebrating the strength I find in Christ, I'm blinded by all I can't do and am doing a bang-up job of convincing myself that I am sinning by falling short of my self-inflicted expectations. Oh, I am one hot mess and it's time I face it so that I can move forward. 

Tonight I'm committing to fast from sleep and food until I hear from the Lord. You see, I know He has a plan for this. Romans 8:28 promises me that. I don't doubt His sovereignty one little bit. So, even though I accept that I may not understand the plan He has in place or how He will use this for good, I will wait before Him until I hear a word from Him. 

I admit I'm nervous. It is hard for me to shut up. I need His strength to do just that. 

Lord, I am desperate for you. Quiet my heart. Quiet my mind. Quiet my spirit. In your presence I stop and look to you. 

"Therefore I will look to the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; My God will hear me." Micah 7:7

Wait For It...

June 24, 2013: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

I’ve heard it said that the hardest lesson to learn is that of waiting. I’d like to take this opportunity to say that I have done a stellar job of failing to learn that lesson. Maybe it’s because it takes patience, which I’m lacking in. Perhaps it’s because I like to (pretend to) be in charge of things, and I’m just not. I’ve heard of nightmare experiences of people waiting two hours to get out of a stuck elevator, four hours in a packed emergency room, and fifteen minutes in the express line at the grocery store! I’ve also learned sweet lessons from friends who have waited years for a pregnancy, countless months for the final adoption papers, and far too many sleepless nights to hear of the safety of a loved one fighting overseas. So when I hear the word waiting, I instantly get restless. I’m so grateful for a God so personal who has chosen to teach me (once again) to wait on Him.

In my first entry I mentioned that I was scheduled for surgery May 24 and we watched that date come and go. What I didn’t write about were any of the why’s. I’m recording the timeline of some of the events purely for my future reference. If anyone else cares to read it, have at it.

March 29: Dr. appointment resulting in orders for echocardiogram and MRI (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

April 4: MRI #1 (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

April 5: MRI #1 results inconclusive; referral to neurologist (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

April 10: Echocardiogram (God's word to us: "Wait.")

April 15: Results of echocardiogram were good; first appointment with neurologist. More MRI’s scheduled. (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

April 17: MRI’s #2 and #3 completed (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

April 22: Follow up appointment with neurologist; MRI results conclusive; referral to neurosurgeon (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

May 2: Appointment with neurosurgeon #1; surgery scheduled for May 24 (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

The waiting on the days that followed became more and more challenging. As our surgery date approached, God flooded our hearts with peace, but each day also became known as “X number of days” until surgery. (Not a fun way to keep a calendar, I must admit.)

May 16: Pre-admission tests at hospital #1 (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

May 19: Finally begin to make the upcoming surgery general knowledge and we are completely ready! (God’s word to us: “Wait.”) We are comforted by the knowledge that the wait is almost over!

May 20: God plants the very first seed of worry in my heart and I begin to pray fervently that He will remove the fear or make it clear how to proceed. 20 minutes later friend from hospital #1 calls in tears begging us not to go through with the surgery based on information she had just learned about my neurosurgeon from a very respected, very trustworthy source. (The frenzy that took place in our lives that day was fairly impressive.) Surgery cancelled; appointment scheduled with neurosurgeon #2. (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

May 30: Appointment with neurosurgeon #2 (peace returns); surgery scheduled for June 7. (God’s word to us: “Wait.”)

June 3: Neurosurgeon #2 calls to enthusiastically explain that the biggest fear, the greatest risk, the reason neurosurgeons hate this surgery has been potentially eradicated because of what he learned just after we left his office on May 30. This new knowledge, he explained, could conceivably change the face of this surgery forever. He went on to explain that by June 7 (my surgery date!), he fully intended to have developed software that would be able to be used with MRI technology in the operating room, during my surgery, giving them a precise indication of success on the spot. The vastly improved knowledge would result what he believed to be the first of its kind in our country.
(God’s word to us: “See, my beloved?”) 

My heart screamed gratitude to my blessed Father. He didn’t take away my need for the surgery or the seriousness of the procedure, or the pain of recovery. He simply did exceedingly, abundantly more than we could ever ask or imagine! Oh, how I love Ephesians 3:20! Don’t ever tell me He isn’t personal. He knew my words professed trust. He knew I claimed peace. He also knew my heart was anxious of one thing...the post-operative risks. Our waiting made a way for an answer to a prayer we never thought to utter.

June 7: Surgery completed with technology beyond what the doctors had previously ever had access to. (As a side note, neurosurgeon #2 also texted our friend who pleaded with us to cancel our first surgery to let her know the profound impact she ultimately had on my care. Wow.)

June 9: Left hospital 2-3 days ahead of schedule and the healing begins. Wanna guess God’s word to me right now? Yes, “Wait.” Healing will come, eventually. Pain will subside in time. Strength will return. He is with me always.

“Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!” Psalms 27:14

So, As it Turns Out, Strength and Peace Walk Hand-in-Hand

June 20, 2013: "I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalms 16:8

I’ve become a student of God’s character through this journey. And along the way I’ve learned a lot about myself too. I have a habit of reflecting too much sometimes, but that’s simply how I’m wired. One of the self-discoveries I’ve been making is that I work very hard at compartmentalizing things (emotions, events, even relationships). So when I first jotted down a list of things I believe God is teaching me, I had two very distinct compartments for peace and strength. These are two of the most profound insights I’ve gained during this ride, but have lacked words to articulate what I’m learning. I attempted to capture some of what God's teaching me about peace in my last blog.

It hit me today. While it is true that I am fully relying on His strength, AND that He is the source of my peace. I haven’t been able to separate them because this journey has woven them so tightly together that one cannot exist without the other. When I am at peace, which John 14:27 and John 16:33 promise, I am fully enveloped by the presence of my Savior. And when I am surrounded by the magnitude of Jesus, I am strengthened to face worries I could never face alone. And I’m not just talking about physical strength, although this surgery and recovery have certainly zapped me completely of that.

I write today, so grateful that God sent my sister to help restore my strength. She has been here the last few days and I am overwhelmed by the joy, the healing, and the strength that have taken place while she has been here. I thank her, of course, but I credit God for providing exactly what I needed at exactly the time I needed it. In Psalms 31, the writer pens my heart, “But I trust in you, O Lord. I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hands.” Of course He knows exactly what I need. And of course, it’s always before I’m aware.

Both of my daughters sent me verses before they left for camp, and they are some of my favorites. One verse my youngest sent is, “The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.” (Proverbs 18:10). It’s not among my favorites because I consider myself righteous (I don’t), nor that I can run right now (I can’t). It’s precious to my heart because it reminds me in my time of weakness just who my Strong Tower is. When overwhelming winds seem to seek to topple me, I am safe in the shelter of my Strong Tower. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.

One verse my oldest daughter sent is, “But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9). A favorite because it so isn’t about me, or what I can do. It’s not even about getting stronger day by day (which I am thankful for!). It’s about God getting the glory in my weakness. Is He getting that? Oh, I pray that He is! Lord, keep me as weak as you need to, to accomplish Your purpose. During my weakness, continue to envelop me with a gratitude for peace. And as I gain strength from You and the people you send, like priceless meal-makers and a precious sister who loves so well, keep my heart grateful. Amen.