A Christmas Miracle

I've had a rough couple of weeks...my sister says I'm having a mid-life crisis.  Uggh  I have no idea if that is true, to me it feels more like I can no longer climb.  I refused bitterness, clung to hope, believed in redemption...but I can climb no more.  I am tired, my heart is broken and my spirit is weary. 

As the new year came in I sobbed...because I know I cannot live through another year like the last.  It's not being overly dramatic to say I can't, it's just a fact.  I haven't got it in me.  Systematically life has killed off all of my will to love and live.  I have lived my life by holding fast to joy.  Allowing it to carry me past the cliffs and chasms...allowed me to embrace whatever joy came.  Choosing to allow joy to overshadow sorrow and loss.  But, somehow this last jolt was a bit much and as I tripped and as I fell I opened my hand and joy escaped.  I let go of the balloon and it quickly began it's upward climb till I could no longer touch or even see it.

It is here that I have been asking the Lord to give grace.  To help me believe when I cannot see His hand or feel His goodness.  In this place where more and more has been stripped away and I am left only with believing in everlasting mercy.  Each layer has stripped away friendships, ministry, family, church, identity.  The sorrow is overwhelming and it takes so much energy not to sit and cry most days.  This is a lonely place and no one can go with me...or at least no one has.

In desperation I call my sister to talk about the last stripping away.  I need someone to tell me I'm not crazy.  As I tell her the story I realize I have probably just been witness to my own Christmas miracle.  Because when confronted with a wounded person who set out to bring me pain I did not give in and "speak my mind", but instead chose to listen to the voice I heard that kept saying, "seventy times seven".  I spoke with a clear head and measured words.  Honestly, God's words...because I know that if it was up to me I would have broken the relationship off completely and clearly.

 Instead God spoke, I heard him and despite the fact that I was physically shaking during the ordeal.  I was given the ability to listen and obey on Christmas eve, as I'm talking to my sister I realize that while this horrible event colored my whole Christmas and makes my heart hurt like it has been pulled through my chest...I had my own Christmas miracle.  I got to see the power of God made real in my life.

I need more of this power...the kind that actually lets us love for real.   I want to see His Kingdom come and His will be done...even here where I can't climb, can't move, and can't move past sorrow.  I'm waiting for Him to move me, from where I am to wherever He puts me next.  Blessed be the name of the Lord!   (Written over a year ago, I decided to publish it today)