Mothers Day couldn't have come at a worse time. This past weekend I have felt so broken ... forgotten ... unloved ... forsaken ... Right now I can't see a way for this pain to be turned to joy, or for this to turn out for good.
A week ago I was in a totally different place to the one I am in now. I felt rejected and "less than". I blamed myself for not being a better mother ... better grandmother ... if only I had ... I was over-sensitive and took offense at every remark, seeing hurt where none was intended. Tears flowed far too freely and were not tears to bring healing. Anger was just below the surface. Feeling that I couldn't go on like that ... desperate for answers, I cried out to God: "If You really love me, if You haven't forsaken me, show me a sign."
I didn't expect an answer.
I didn't expect anything to change.
I didn't see how I could get out of this pit.
God, in His goodness and love, sent not one, not even two, but multiple proofs of His abiding love for me.
I had felt abandoned. He showed me that He had been beside me the whole time.
I hurt. He showed me that He understood.
I felt rejected. I discovered that He had never rejected me.
I felt that my world had fallen apart. He showed me that He has a plan.
I felt unloved and He showed me love. So many people reached out to me in love, many prompted, no doubt, by our gracious Lord: loving and gentle words of counsel from at least two godly women, beautiful flowers from another friend, messages that people were praying for me.
And then two very definite answers to my prayer followed with a promise.
The first came via a friend's email. Four pages long when I printed it out so that I could go back and reread it and reflect on the words. Four pages where the Lord had shown her what was behind my suffering. Four pages where He had laid on her heart the exact words I needed to hear.
The second was from one of my husband's sisters who sent me a copy of a devotional she had read that day and which she felt the Lord had told her to share with me. The writer of the devotional reminded us that as Christians we are to offer the sacrifice of praise.
I was not feeling exactly like offering praise. In fact, I was still crying out to the Lord for answers. But suddenly I understood the term "sacrifice of praise". Years and years as a Christian and I had never understood before now. It's not something we do just when we feel like doing it ... a sacrifice involves, well, sacrifice. Doing it when it hurts. Doing it when it costs. Doing it when We. Don't. Feel. Like. It.
As I finished reading the devotional, I was reminded of a book that I had read years ago (and had recommended to others) called "Prison to Praise" by Merlin R. Carothers. Suddenly I realised that I was in a prison of my own making. A prison where I had chosen to believe lies rather than the truth. And the only way out of that prison was to offer up the sacrifice of praise.
I don't know how it works. I don't need to. But when I began to offer up the sacrifice of praise things changed. Something shifted inside me.
The darkness lifted.
I still miss my son and daughter-in-law and no doubt will feel sadness and even loneliness at times - especially when their child is born or other significant events occur that have in the past been times of joyous family celebrations.
But the despair has gone. The brokenness has been healed. The feelings of rejection and self-blame and of not being enough have been exposed for the lies that they were.
Where I had thought this pain would never go away, He took it away with one step of obedience. And then, so graciously offered more than I had asked or expected. Again through my husband's sister, He gave me a promise. This is too personal to share but has given me so much hope and reminded me that He is at work. His ways are not always our ways, but He will bring good out of all that has happened. I can trust Him because He is faithful and His plans are greater.
As you do not know what is the way of the wind,
Or how the bones grow in the the womb of her who is with child,
So you do not know the works of God who makes everything.
Ecclesiastes 11:5, NKJV.
Comments