“It’s the heaviness in the air from the warm front” she explained. Yet it’s awfully hard to comprehend; a spring storm bringing such a layer of doubt over my quaking heart. And the weight suffocating caused me to call upon her for prayer. “I just want to fix it Mama. Want the depression to be gone.”
Knowing full well that His grace is sufficient for me and His power is made perfect in my weakness but believing it is another mindset entirely. How do you believe when the weight of all that is wrong in the world crushes your spirit like a landslide and you. can’t. fix. It?
“Yes, I will pray.” And her assuring words bring some comfort but her unusual prediction of a storm bearing the weight of the world to come sweeping right over our grace filled home leaves an impression that clings to the back of my mind.
“Grumpy.” That’s the description of my mood and mindset from the concerned husband. And I don’t even argue. But that the heaviness that suppresses my soul is a correlation of a spring storm and knowledge of all the intense pain that goes on among us people is more than mildly disconcerting.
Because I. can’t. fix. it.
And I lay, face down on the floor with baby girl softly cooing to herself unaware of my inward turmoil of soul and I search for something I must be doing wrong – something separating me from my God because where is He? And faith is not an emotion, not a high, but I need something to cling to, to believe in. And “the first thing Satan attacks is your identity”.
I am founded, grounded, rooted, and inscribed on the palm of Jesus Christ and that truth requires something far beyond emotion to stabilize a shaking heart and a quivering lip. And God I really just need to hear You. Speak.
But what do you do when God is silent? I know His presence because I know the lack of it and that… is a terrifying place. He is here with me.
Get up. Move on. Still shaken but by what I don’t know. But this I do know and have full confidence in: He will never allow pain without bringing growth.
Growing pains. You can’t see them but they hurt so bad like a seizure inside a muscle tearing, sewing, ripping, healing, growing. Bigger, stronger, and suddenly there is more to you than there ever was before and people notice.
They notice how you change and they see the gait with which you carry yourself and do you dwell on the memory of the muscle spasms and rubbing and rubbing till hands are raw or do you walk taller, confident that you are somehow more than you were before the pain?
And that spring storm it comes and with it angry torrents of rain ridding the air of the awful pressure, dissipating clouds to bring forth the light!
“His light shines in the darkness and the night is like day to Him.”
And with it the dawning realization that there is nothing you can do but hit your knees and kick the lie that you must be doing something wrong, that maybe there would be no guilt if you did more, were more.
And behind every awful self condemnation is the tell-tale shadow of a cleverly orchestrated scheme to rob you of your God-given security and the devil himself is behind your misery.
Well that changes things doesn’t it? When your battle isn’t with the weather or your own faith. The battle is against the devil who claps his hands in giddy delight at your face down on the floor…until he realizes to whom and with whom you are conversing and it’s his soul that will feel the chill when the trumpet of your God sounds. And the declaration “I will rescue my child” overthrows and overpowers and overcomes satan’s plan for your despair.
Hit your knees, beloved, but don’t you stay there. Because “there is a God in heaven” (Dan. 2:27); and there is nothing weak about our God. Rise and count your joys – they are numerous.