I thought I'd resign from life for a while. Check out until everything blows over and we move out and we're in a new house and we're happy...
...but why can't I be happy now, why can't I still have peace and be me and do what I need to do as I go through my drama, this episode, this valley!
I am reclined to hide, to run away, to feel sorry for myself but I am not thirteen, seventeen, twenty-one anymore and I have a husband and three children to think about.
We know by now that life never works out the way you plan, but we also know that God always has a better plan and sometimes all you can do, all you should do is say "In your hands LORD, in your hands."
Last post ago me and my husband and children were referred to as hungry mongrel dogs and garbage and instead of being angered by that I was angry at myself for allowing mere mortals to fuel my rage. I felt as if I had dishonored God and that He wouldn't fight for me because I had argued so bitterly with people who are no doubt unconscious subconsciously. I felt so bad that I had spent many days confessing my error and asking God to forgive me.
This is why I never fight back-the guilt and shame is unbearable and I feel it takes away God's grace and favor from my life. This is why I run and hide and cower in the dark corner of my room whispering shaky prayers that gives the devil footholds in my life.
There was a time that I was a fearsome prayer warrior...that was yesterday, last week, last month, last year, tomorrow.
I say this to point out that we all become vulnerable at times, that we all feel afraid sometimes and Lord knows I was afraid as I laid in bed that Saturday night wondering if the landlady's son would deliver on his promise to get a garbage truck and pack me and my children and the house-I was frantic with worry as I envisioned the ordeal and the whole community laughing as we were dragged from the premises by the garbage collectors.
Tears streamed down my cheek as I watched Ariah sleep and listened to my husband snore as if he had not one care in the world.
Then resentment set in and quickly after remorse and after that sadness and I am a whirl wind of emotions sobbing like a fool when I knew that I was a soldier when in prayer.
Then I hear God whisper into my Spirit "You can fall as much as you like, but what really matters is how long you stay down and how quickly you decide to get up."
And I got up!
In my moment of frailty God's strength took my hand. I am never really powerless because I reign in Him and the authority He gives me through the Holy Spirit and I know I am writing too deep for some of you but I pray your understanding even now.
When I found out I was pregnant with Ariah I decided I would be strong, that I would depend solely on God and trust Him no matter what I saw before my physical eyes or heard with my natural ears. I also promised myself that I would never roll over and play dead while other people walked all over me-something I had done my whole life.
I had had enough and I had decided no more.
I would go after what I wanted inspite of how I felt and I have often felt defeated to the point where it made me physically ill. I would be the best mom I could be despite the utterings of fools who had no clue how to do what I do.
They could never walk a minute in my shoes, nor would they want to because I don't wear Jimmy Choo or Gucci. Never owned a pair of Vera Wang or Louboutin. I wear sanded leather sandals and I often go bare feet.
(no I never go bare foot...eew)
I would honor my responsibilities despite how broken I felt.
...and right now I'm pretty broken.