If my life were a room that you could look inside, there were piles of blessings, heaped up over everything that day. Grace poured out in reckless beauty... over the crevices and corners, seeping out under the door...but somehow it was all gray.
I couldn't understand it. So many reasons to say "I'm good. My life is good. I'm happy." But such a shadow; such a weakness prevailed.
I missed my Mom. I missed my family. I missed being needed. I missed my strength. I missed feeling close to God. I missed resting in His presence.
"Ashamed" was an understatement. Oh, was I ashamed. Why this struggle? I hadn’t expected it.
Days passed and I prayed for strength - just in the split seconds when I had a chance; when I felt the mental exhaustion pull me under again. Just a sentence or two, when I could, a half hour when I found the luxury.
And then there was another Wednesday night: Me making sure we weren't late. Me stuffing all my feelings back inside to smile like nothing was wrong. Me ironing clothes and dreading the thought of pacing in the lobby with my fussy child until service ended. Me, hopeful that maybe I could hear at least part of the sermon. And overall, Me: still ashamed of struggling, ashamed to admit the silent aching of my heart.
We made the hour drive to church, got there on time, sat down in our usual seat, and sang all the songs that were to be sung. Then our pastor got up to introduce the speaker for tonight; a man from South Africa. Turns out he wasn't even supposed to have come, but for some reason, God directed him to us, tonight.
I don't know what happened. That man didn't know me, I never even got a chance to shake his hand after service, but it was like he had listened to everything I had prayed to God in the last month. Nothing was left out. Not one thing. And as he preached, I felt God changing my heart and filling it with the life I had been begging to have.
Almost as miraculous as everything else: my baby sat quietly in her carseat, cooing softly to herself for the entire service. That doesn't happen.
I had been trying my hardest to be the "joyful" mother of children talked about in scripture. I had been trying my best to not be lonely away from my family. I was trying to find my place so far away from them. I had been trying to be a woman of God.
I was an overcomer. By the skin of my teeth.
I was "flourishing where I was planted" on a cliff's edge, slowly losing my grip.
It was sheer will that kept me putting one foot in front of the other.
Depression crept in.
By the time I walked out of the service, everything had changed. Peace fell in calming heaviness over all the clamor that had strangled my thoughts before. There was strength. There was love. There was more grace to give out. There was a freedom that I have never felt before.
And I couldn't believe that God would stoop to strengthen such a miserable excuse of a child. But he sent someone all the miles from South Africa to answer the desperate cry of an ashamed, lonely, girl who couldn't hold it together anymore.
I'm still embarrassed to admit the way I was feeling, but my hearts cry is that others who feel like they just need another portion of strength to keep going would hear this story of grace and seek His reality.
There really is a holding power that comes from an experience with Christ. There is a joy that's more than a pained smile. God has a practical application for mercy. It's not a heady, "book-knowledge" kind of thing when He really sets you free from depression.
His freedom means waking up with pure thanksgiving in your heart. An encounter with Him means that the fears and troubles are put to rest, knowing that He has all the answers. His strength means that you can smile in the hurry, and the dishes, and the unseen, unsung ways that you serve your family at home. It means you can be strong and happy again. It means you see your purpose, and all you want to do is serve Him in it for the rest of your life.
That's what He did for me. He'll do it for you.
Put down your phone. Open your Bible. Pour out yourself in honesty before Him; show Him what you don't show anyone else...And keep knocking. And knocking. And knocking: because He promised to open the door, if you would.
You'll be amazed what happens when heaven comes down. Hold on.
8 comments:
Anna, thank you for sharing, for being honest. Real. Genuine
I have been blessed by your blog for some time, shared by a friend. This post blessed me *immeasurably*.
Our God is good, His timing perfect, His faithfulness astounding. Blessings to you, dear sister! He will hold us fast one beautiful messy day at a time. <3
with love and gratitude, McKenna
Thank you McKenna! Heartfelt comments like yours are what keep me typing away here on the blog. God bless you with more grace to give out and a song in your heart - “In due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” So glad He lends His own strength to “hold up the hands that hang down,” and enables our hearts to revel in the beauty of our calling.
Praying for you today. ❤️
God is ever faithful! So thankful He filled your heart with love and peace one more time. He will do it over and over again. Love and miss you so much and so grateful He hears and answers every prayer.
💕Mom
oh this is beautiful I can't even put into words how much I needed this, sometimes it feels like I'm the only one having a hard time in life but things like this remind me how everyone goes through rough spots in life and that God will always be there for us no matter where we are or what we are going through. Thank you so much for posting this I don't know what I'd do without your blog<3
-Rose
Anna, thank you for continuing your blog! I love all that you write, and it inspires me. I know the trials of moving far from family, and I also know the goodness of God to lift us up out of those moments of depression. He is so good! I love your story of His grace that day, brought through a man all the way from South Africa! I have had similar moments in life, where you know He is giving grace directly to you.
It does get a bit easier through the years living away from family. The earlier years of our marriage and family life were the hardest. Not gonna lie, I still feel it sometimes, but, it truly is softened, and there is a great peace that over-rides the sad moments, knowing that I am right where He wants me, and am living His plan for my life, our lives, right here.
Yes, I feel the draw of wanting to see or visit my family, like right now, when we usually would visit them and go camping along the way, but can't afford it this year. But, I also keep saying "Jesus I trust in You", and striving to revel in the joys of our family life, the friends he's given us, the wonderful Church family we have here, the sweet day-to-day of precious children, holding the precious baby I thought we'd never have again, going "park hopping" with the kids, all the "good" in our days, and keep trusting Him and His plan for our lives.
There are for sure days when I feel like you, and where life feels soooooo overwhelming. I heard once that those are the days that are your gift to Him, the days that have the most meaning when you offer them to Him, because they are the hardest to offer. The days that are easy and you feel happy, content, and His grace flowing, those are the days that are His gift to us. :-) Awesome thought, huh?
I love seeing the young lady you've become, your strong Faith, your love for your sweet family, the capable young wife you are. Thank you for this little window to see a bit of your days. :-) Blogs like your's are my little pleasure in the early morning hours before I hit the day running. :-) They lift me up!
Thinking of and praying for you, and your little family way down there in NC. Keep up the good work, and hug those sweet babies once for me today. :-)
God bless you all,
Sarah V.
Sarah, you are always SO encouraging!! I think about you and your family and PRAY that I can be as sweet and patient as you always are.
I was so happy to hear that Grace made a safe entrance into the world. (I was grilling mom for details the whole time you were in labor.) lol
Love you!!
Thank you for all your prayers, Mom. Coming out of service that night I was thinking “I guess Mom has been praying again.” Lol! I could almost feel them. I WAS feeling them.
Thank you so much, Rose:)
I remember such lonely, hard times as a teenager. Again, it was a matter of trying to find my place and “be enough.” I wondered what God wanted for my life, and struggled when people couldn’t understand me.
That doesn’t change. I don’t think it’s supposed to, honestly. That’s what keeps us seeking Christ; keeps us calling out to Him and NEEDING His refuge.
It also showed me how to be understanding and accepting of people - because everyone is probably hiding a weakness or a hurt that we don’t know about. The world is dying for Love.
I don’t know (and don’t need to, I’m not trying to pry) what you’re going through, but those were the hard places for me, growing up.
I’m praying for you today. “He is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.” May you find Him faithful to that promise.
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