An Ebenezer - A New Chapter

A year ago today, I was brought to my knees as my world crumbled around me. A year that has been filled with battles, tears, prayers, and finally some peace. As this first anniversary approached, I was filled with conflicting emotions. It felt weird to "honor" this horrific day in remembrance, but at the same time, I felt so desperate to honor the journey that has cascaded from it. In this journey, I have held both sadness and joy for what happened and what could have happened. I have held both grief and hope as all I have ever known disintegrated, but then a spark began to ignite a dream that had long been buried. The path I have traveled this year has been wildly unknown, but it has also led me to true freedom, peace in the fire, and hope for what may come. March 10, 2021 is a day that is forever etched into my mind. It was the day when the writing appeared on the wall, and God finally answered my prayers in the most unlikely of ways.

So for this Ebenezer, I will focus and honor the lessons learned and the faith forged in fire. No longer will this day be framed in tears, but will be covered with the hope and joy that can only come from a redemption song. March 10th will now be a day where I say "Thus far the Lord has been faithful. See what He has done." And...

To those that are trudging through your own Sahara wondering if the desert time ever ends, I see you. Believe me when I say I know how it feels to keep putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to cringe when well-intentioned people compare your plight to the 40 year desert stint of the Israelites. Just know this, that God is still present in the desert times. His sustaining manna is always consistent but sometimes unexpected. 

To those who are living day after day after day bruised by their prayers that ricochet off of the ceiling. I see you. I see the waiting and the wondering and the doubts that are closing ranks around you, blinding you to the work that God is doing. Just know God is still working in your waiting. 

To those that find themselves wrestling with God in the dark of night, I see you. I see the pillows that have soaked your tears and muffled the moans of anguish as you cast the swirling questions on the God you thought you knew. I see the questions of whether God will come through this time. Does He care about this little thing? He can do this BUT will He? Is my faith strong enough? Just know that He is El Roi the God who sees, He is the God who cares, and He is the God who is ever faithful.

This story is not the path I would have chosen, nor is it one I would wish on anyone. BUT GOD. Instead of a rod to part the Red Sea, he used a lunch box to unshackle my chains. Instead of a momentary quick fix, he gave me a path to true intimacy with Him. Instead of a whisper, He gave me the sign that I desperately needed, one that could not be refuted even as time went on. Instead of my wants, He gave me what I needed and for that I am truly grateful.

March 10th, Thus far has been faithful.

2/22/22- Twelve Years down and a Lifetime to Go

Today was a good day. My fingers hesitate as I am typing this, because it feels almost scary to even say those words. It feels like it might take away from the horror and struggle of the last 11 months and the past 12 years overall. Still, I will say it again, today was a good day. Today was a day filled with redemption. Today was a day where joy was found in the normal and the mundane. Today was a day where there were flickers of light and glimpses into possibilities. Today was a day for silver linings. 

A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine asked if I would be willing and able to come speak to a group of awesome mamas. I agreed, a date was set, and she gave me the space to just share my heart. As I was preparing for this time, it finally dawned on me the significance that today held. It is my 12 year cancerversary. Now to most, this may seem like a trifle thing, but to me, today was a day to remember. I had the privilege and honor of being able to share my journey of these past 12 years. I was able to pay God's goodness forward as I gave these women permission to wrestle with God and permission to feel all of those hard feelings and have it be ok. Today, I was able to see Joel 2:25 come to life in a way that blew my mind and filled my cup. I was both humbled and excited. 

The rest of the day passed by with a sense of normalcy that I had almost forgotten even existed. I got to take my daughter and my niece to school. I got to take funny pictures as we waited in the preschool drop off line. I got to cheer on my daughter's 6th grade basketball team as they played to victory. Today, I got to bask in my freedom, and sit in its calming peace. For the first time in a long time, my prayer was no longer "Why Me?" or "How much longer Lord must I endure?"; instead gratitude and hope were the whispers on my lips. I know my journey is not over, neither with my cancer nor my divorce, and that is ok. For now, though, I will rejoice and celebrate the fact that cancer did not win 12 years ago. I will celebrate that my miracle daughter is alive and thriving. I will celebrate that although my dreams took on a different look , they are still coming true in my life. I will celebrate that the ashes from my story are bringing hope to those around me. I will celebrate that I still have this second chance to make this messy chaos into a beautiful life. 

As always, I cannot leave without acknowledging the best tribe of people. To those who have walked beside me, cried with me, held my arms above me, stood in the gap for me, spoke truth and power and prayer over me, and overwhelmed me with blessings, to you I give my humble gratitude. No matter the darkness that my story has held, because of all of you, I am the luckiest and most blessed girl there is. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

Here is to an amazing year of walking in freedom and the peace that follows perseverance.

May it be so. 

It Is Finished.

    Seven years ago today, my world was shaken, and the first signs of fracture appeared in my marriage. The façade I had always known began to fall away in shreds. For seven years, I had battled to stay on this roller coaster as I endured dark valleys and fewer mountain tops. For seven years, I prayed and toiled and bore the brunt of things, so that I could stand at the end having done all I could do. Then after a long stretch of absolute silence, God gave me the sign I had been seeking, and I gingerly took the first step toward the final chapter of this particular era. Now, after staggering thru ten months of the hardest battle I have ever faced, my marriage has ended just two days shy of the seven year anniversary of that first devastation. My "I Do" has become "It is Finished". My title of "Wife" has been replaced with "Single Mom". My numbing fear has morphed into glimmers of hope. My wrestling in the dark of night has become pure joy by the light of day. My questions and doubts of God's faithfulness have been destroyed by waves of truth and exponential blessings. My mourning has finally turned into dancing.

I had no idea how I would feel as I watched the calendar march on and these two red letter milestones converge only days apart. I am in a tangle of emotions that is beyond description. I am looking back on the past seven years, and my heart hurts as I remember the pain, the waiting, the yearning, and the fading away of myself. Every anniversary, I had hoped and prayed and continued to wrestle with God that He would still be faithful and be the Redeemer I had always hoped He would be. Every year, I waited for my struggles to turn into something awesome and meaningful. Every year, I felt like the same story different day... until now. 

I will be honest that there were times in these past ten months where I did not know if I was going to make it thru. I felt like every time I turned around, I was losing another battle. Everything seemed to be against me. Here, I had spent my entire life helping people, serving my community, being faithful, and walking in integrity, and it seemed like none of that now mattered. Even surrounded by the most incredible group of people and supporters, I felt like I was being overlooked or forgotten. I felt more and more like Job as the weeks turned into months, and the blows kept coming in every direction. Tears became my constant companion, and heartache my new normal. Despair hovered on the horizon as I wrangled for something, anything I could grasp onto and control as the end drew near. I felt stuck and scared. I still had so many people praying and interceding and speaking truth over me, and yet the battle still constantly raged in my heart. Finally, I had come to the place in my struggle of being able to let it ALL go. Finally, I was able to open my hands and say "Here you go God". Finally, I had found the doorway to complete surrender. My surrender meant sitting in that fear and discomfort and literally handing over all the things that seemed to be slipping thru my fingers. I had to surrender the injustice of a broken system, the possibility of losing all of my worldly possessions, time with my daughter, my identity, my livelihood, and everything else that I had worked for. This was where I had to put concrete steps behind my flowery words and claims. This was where I stood in the fiery furnace and still declared that God was good, faithful and still God. 

So here I am three weeks after my trial and one of the worst days of my life, and I am finally free. My mind is whirling, trying to grapple with this new feeling because it still seems almost too good to be true. Yet, it kind of is. The things that have come about as a result of this court case are things that literally only God could have orchestrated. The outcomes have left even my lawyer somewhat speechless. So many of the things that had seemed lost or destroyed are being transformed and redeemed before my very eyes. I have never felt so validated, so seen, or so loved. I am so overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, grace, mercy, prayers, support, money, time, and gifts that were lavished on me and my family during this time. I am forever indebted to everyone that has walked, cried, or carried me thru this fire, and words don't give my level of gratitude, justice. All I can say is thank you, and I love you all very deeply. 

Now, here's to new beginnings, new chances, a new era, and a new start. And so It Begins...

The Two Horned Goat- 2021

    In the movie The Help, there is an awesome quote, "Love and hate are two horns on the same goat...". If that doesn't describe life, I don't know what does. Now, hate is not a word I usually use, but honestly, I have HATED a lot of moments this year. Some of the worst moments of 2021 rivaled some of the darkest times during my cancer battle, and I do not say that cavalierly.  Having to muck my way through this valley of divorce and trauma, this time with my daughter and for my daughter and as an example to her took wrestling with God to a whole new level. I thought the spiritual intimacy I had already come to know, love, and rely on was enough. Instead, these last ten months have shown me very clearly the areas that I was still trying to control and hide. While battling law and order and the judicial system on the outside, an inner battle was waging as I was learning to let go of my fear of the unknown and to leave Nevaeh in the hands of the One who created her. "Ebenezer" and "El Roi"  became my daily battle cry as I kept reminding myself that thus far He had been faithful and He would see us both through this undulating rollercoaster of change and emotions.  

    To say 2021 was a year for the books is an understatement. The story I have lived is one that I could not make up even if I tried. It has been full of nuance and surprises. I felt my way out of many nights of darkness and was also blessed to experience occasions of pure and unadulterated joy. While I was hurt by the one closest to me, I found a blanket of love and support from amazing people all over the world.  The lessons learned and relearned could fill a book, but these top 15 encapsulate this past year...

1. I can find joy and still be sad at the same time.

2. God sees my daughter just like He sees me.

3. Hate and unforgiveness hinder true healing.

4. Grace and space to grieve are some of the greatest gifts.

5. Walking with God is a constant learning and developing relationship. 

6. Going first with my vulnerability, gives others the courage to be vulnerable too.

7. Sometimes people are the best surprises along the journey.

8. Faithfulness will eventually always win out. 

9. Community is absolutely essential to every step in life. 

10. I can be crushed without being utterly destroyed, even when it can feel like I am.  

11. Blessings come in unexpected packages and relationships.

12. Validation can make all the difference in the world. 

13. We can only heal what we name.

14. Honoring my journey and my relationships is a beautiful and awe-inspiring thing.

15. Open-Palmed Living is hard but brings inexplicable freedom. 

Therefore, as I process this past year and step into the next carrying these lessons, I have found my two words on which to focus. The first one has been spoken over me more than once and really fits my mantra of Joel 2:25. It is REDEEMED.

 

Isaiah 43:1-3

But now, this is what the Lord says—

    he who created you, Jacob,

    he who formed you, Israel:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

    I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

2 

When you pass through the waters,

    I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

    they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

    you will not be burned;

    the flames will not set you ablaze.

3 

For I am the Lord your God,

    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior

 

MAY IT BE SO!!

The next word is GRIT: She is unshakeable not because she doesn't know pain or failure, but because she always pushes through. Because she always shows up and never gives up. Because she believes anything is possible no matter the odds. She is just like a pearl- made from grit but full of grace. @bryananthonys. This is how I want to be. 

So here's to 2022: May this coming year redeem my grit into a priceless pearl. May this time spent in waiting bear a flood of fruitfulness. May my mourning be turned into great joy. May my healing reveal my stronger self. May all my losses be regained ten fold. May my broken heart find a safe place to land, and May those lessons which have been forged in fire become the steel foundation to the incredible next chapter of my life. 

Life in the Dash Aug 10, 2007-2021

    Living in the "Dash" is a constant theme at most funerals, focusing on the significance of our existence between our birth and our death. What did we do with that little dash of time? Did we embrace it fully with all of its ethereal mountain tops, it's heavy-laden valleys, and all of the nuanced details in between? Did we love well and live well? Did we serve and extend grace? Did we fail and falter yet still managed to stand back up? 

    Well, today marks another "Dash", the end of an era, so to speak. Fourteen years ago, I stood on the cusp of a life long dream, about to take on a role, I felt destined to be in. I was going from Miss to Mrs, and I was thrilled. This was a dream of mine, and I was fully confident that the love and faith I had would carry through any heartache that would or could come our way. Obviously, it was not enough. Reaching fourteen years, you feel like maybe you've got this handled, especially since we had already lived a lifetime in those years. We had maneuvered through sickness and health, life and death, babies, discord, the seven year "itch", the decade milestone and everything else in between. I had done everything I knew to do to save and salvage until I had nothing left to give. Now fourteen years later, I am teetering on the cusp of something else, feeling angry and scared and rejected. Today is hard and hard to process. I am floundering in No-Mans-Land. I am alone but not fully and finally divorced. I am stepping in freedom, but still hurting from all that has been lost and crushed. I have a miniscule hope for a bright future, but am still wallowing in a past that defined me, shook me, broke me and built me. I feel like I have been ripped open and all that I thought I was is gone, including a lot of my identity. Things that are inherently me and that I hold dear are now fragile and fearful. So today,  I am having to face the ache that a broken anniversary brings. Today is a day to wonder why and why me. Today is my day to prove to myself that I can do hard things. Today is my day to be ok with not being ok. Today is my day to bravely let friends inside to see my hurting and vulnerable heart and let them whisper balmy words over my open wounds. Today is a day to push myself one more step ahead.

For all of you that gave me the space and grace to grieve today, for all of you that stood in the gap for me, and for all of you that remain in my corner, this weary heart is grateful for you and for being seen and understood today.

                        

Oh My Soul

    There is a song by Casting Crowns that I have not heard in ages until this past week called "Oh My Soul". As I was singing along, part of the chorus slapped me across the face and then proceeded to be on a repeat track in my mind for several days. It says, "There's a place where fear has to face the God you know..." Mic drop.

    This week I have had to face some really big mountains. Mountains that seem impossible, completely unjust, and utterly devastating. I have been grieving and cursing and venting and bawling. I have been reaching out to connect with other humans like a dying man in search of water in the desert because right now, it feels hopeless and completely out of my control. I feel like I am on this constant roller-coaster that every time I start to get a toe hold on my life, on my feelings, and on my emotions something brings a sucker punch to my gut, and for now it is too much, too hard to remember the faithfulness I have already been blessed with. So people have been graciously speaking hard, yet necessary, truths over me and to me and in the gap for me as I try to process all that is to come.  Honestly, I am struggling to get to the place where I introduce these fears to the God I know. There is something so intimate and humbling and nerve-wracking coming before the God of the universe and saying "This really sucks. I am tired of this constant battle. I do not see a way out, and I am super frustrated feeling like I am getting the short end of the stick. Where are You?". This whole process is taking everything I have and everything I have ever known about God to maneuver through this knowledge and pain. It is requiring the vulnerability with friends to ask for their love and strength as I bolster my own. It is compelling me to be gracious to my own body, soul, and spirit and to find things that speak life into my bones. It is requiring that I trust, even in the most unknown. 

    One thing, though, that is making all of this even more frustrating is that I have already been down the trauma road. I have already faced literal death and despair. I have already bawled and processed and been severely humbled. I have already showed my scars that bore witness to God's grace, mercy, and faithfulness. Been there, done that...for real. Yet, this trauma is different and purposeful and the result of other fallible human beings. It is making its own newly carved ruts on my soul, and these ruts require its own process, learning, and foundation. It is another fire for my faith to endure as my dross is revealed and removed. The struggle is absolutely real. 

 So to the fears that have shrouded my mind and heart this week, this is the place where my fragile mustard seed of faith tells you to move. This is where you meet the God I know, the God who sees me (El Roi), the God who provides (Jehovah-Jireh), the Almighty God (El Shaddai) and the God who is ultimately just (Elohim). This is where I go back to what I know and not what I feel. I know that God is good, faithful, and still God. May this Ebenezer be the mark where God shows up in unexpected ways. 

May it be so.

My Anthem for the week...

https://youtu.be/DjNZf878ISQ

Oh, my soul
Oh, how you worry
Oh, how you're weary from fearing
You lost control
This was the one thing
You didn't see coming
And no one would blame you though
If you cried in private
If you tried to hide it away
So no one knows
No one will see
If you stop believing

Oh, my soul
You are not alone
There's a place where fear
Has to face the God you know
One more day
He will make a way
Let Him show you how
You can lay this down

'Cause you're not alone

Here and now
You can be honest
I won't try to promise
That someday it all works out
'Cause this is the valley
And even now
He is breathing on
Your dry bones
And there will be dancing
There will be beauty where beauty was

Ash and stone
This much I know

Oh, my soul
You are not alone
There's a place where fear
Has to face the God you know
One more day
He will make a way

Let Him show you how
You can lay this down

I'm not strong enough
I can't take anymore
You can lay it down
You can lay it down
And my shipwrecked faith
Will never get me to shore
You can lay it down

You can lay it down
Can he find me here?
Can he keep me from going under?

Oh, my soul
You are not alone
There's a place where fear
Has to face the God you know
One more day
He will make a way
Let Him show you how
You can lay this down
'Cause you're not alone
Oh, my soul
You are not alone

Source: Musixmatch

Big Feelings

     Anyone who has known me for longer than 15 minutes has to know that all of my feelings are BIG. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I love quickly, deeply, and without reservation. We meet as friends and end as family. Hugs are my currency and prayers anchor my connections. I hoard a lot of books, but I hoard people and friendships even more. The Biggest Heart and Most Tender-hearted are the only awards hanging on my walls. My heart is the filter thru which I do all of my life. It is a swinging door that also allows BIG hurts in. I feel my pain on multiple levels. Rejection cuts to the core of my soul. So this season of hell that I am in, I am feeling pains I have never felt before, on levels I never knew existed. I know this pain is not necessarily unique and not new per se but nothing can prepare you for its devastation. Most people have no idea of the entirety of this particular divorce story, but it has absolutely shattered me and left me broken. I hate looking weak and this new level of vulnerability is daunting. I want to be healed and whole again, and I have some small hope that one day I will be. Still, the way forward is frightening. I know I have to actually sit in this dark pain to process it, but I hate it and I do not do it well. Every fiber of my being is pulsing like it is on meth to DO SOMETHING. Do anything to distract myself. Focus on others' pain. Fill my time. Eat the good stuff. Discover something I can control. Find anything to fill this void. This. Hurts. Too. Much.

    I am not blaming God at all, but He is calmly listening to a head and heart full of angry and caustic words that I am hurling His way. I have grieved and lamented the loss and death of dreams before,  but this is different. This grief has more triggers, more nuance, and leaves me at the mercy of other people's decisions. In the midst of my own darkness, I have to help my daughter find her own space and way to grieve and process this too. So today, I am feeling the weight of the injustice of it all. There is no winning situation. There is no way that I will come out unscathed. There is no way that I will not feel the rejection with every step. There is no way but to walk thru this fire. To every event there is a season and there is a time for crumbl cookies and Hallmark movies and creative crafting and screaming lyrics while alone in my car. For today though, the season is for hot, angry tears from my eyes and loud, heaving sobs from my soul as I sit in this pain with all of these big feelings. 

Exodus 14:14 "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." May it be so.