I Fell Apart

I Fell Apart

Today is different.

I have a confession.

Perhaps this confession will find a place of redeeming value for someone who is reading. But today I’m not writing as someone who found a beautiful nugget of wisdom that needs to be shared, but more as someone who weathered a storm and survived.

When writer L. Frank Baum wrote “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” in 1900, he had no idea what an amazing depiction of my last Thursday it was going to be.

Like Dorothy before the twister, I had been looking for answers. Answers to perhaps the same questions you are asking.

What is my purpose?
Should I continue to pursue certain dreams, or just get a job and work on financial freedom?
Am I serving Jesus in the right places?
Will I ever be healed? Or do I need to learn to rejoice through the pain?
Am I a good wife? Mom? Friend?

I was not just “looking into a crystal ball,” but legitimately was seeking out the answers through prayer, watching speakers, reading books and having conversations with people I respected. I love writing this blog and doing photography, and hope to one day be able to use both as a means of income, but if all of that is off course with God’s desire– then I will stop. That is where my heart was.

Sounds like peace, but there was a storm brewing.

Dorothy just wanted to go back to her home and find some comfort. Me too.
She was not prepared for the “dream” she had. Me either.

A few days prior to my Thursday tornado, I had a dream about my mom. This dream set the atmosphere for my entire week. I dreamt that I was walking alone down a dark hallway when I saw a crack of light pushing through a gap in a door. As I mustered up my courage, I looked through the space and saw my mom. She was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to oxygen and attended to by a nurse. My instinct was to pull back and hope not to be seen.

But my mom saw me.

When her eyes locked with mine, she pulled off her oxygen mask and struggled to get up. Her nurse was adamantly opposed to her decision, yet my mom pushed past her whilst gesturing for me to come into the room.

No words were exchanged.

She smiled. Then she hugged me for a very long time. (Still have tears.)

This dream should have brought some comfort, right? But it didn’t. Instead it seemed to catalyze me into a downward spiral. I was becoming sad and agitated, without being totally aware of it. I would talk to my bestie on the phone and she would ask what was wrong, so I would list whatever negative thing that happened that day. I knew something was not quite right, however, I did not want to burden her with something I did not even know.

Thursday started with more bad news about my feet. I was deflated. That coupled with the sadness that was sitting on my chest after that dream and all the unanswered questions about my purpose created a mix for a perfect storm of despair. (And let’s not forget that at 51, the *Crazy Train is always barreling down the tracks.) I should have stopped then and there, responding to Dana, who was texting me to talk if I needed to. What I wanted was to be rescued from *Drowning in this sea of despondency. I felt so exhausted. But again I did not know for sure what was wrong. So, I just used the *F word. “Fine”. And even though I just recently wrote about it, I didn’t conclude that the tornado of sadness, pain, confusion and hormones had landed me into the *Land of Perceived Truth.

The entire day was spent in *Hot Tears.

In the late afternoon, my editor texted me about one of my posts she had just finished running through. I confessed to her that I was struggling. Being a woman who values words, she led me through a series of prompts to get me to a *You Are Here Moment. I realized that the emotion that I was wrestling with since the dream was more than me missing my mom.

It was that my mom always saw me.

She knew when I was wrestling with things, when I was hurt, when I needed to be shown love and when I needed course correction. She saw me through that little crack in the door and fought to love on me.

 

Somehow since this dream, my filter had become. . .

Nobody else sees me.

I am empty.

Nobody wants me anymore.

 

Both Hannah (editor) and Dana (bestie) are *Shut the Back Door kind of friends. Therefore, neither of them allowed me to remain in this land of disillusionment. In their own ways, they linked arms with me and led me to God. . . to Absolute Truth. It was not easy for them. I was that *Mad Adder. Change was happening.  I was scared, so I lashed out. Although I did not hit either of them directly with venom, they hurt with me. They had  a *Good Mourning with me as I released my sadness. They could have been *The B Word, but they made time in their busy day and had the right *‘Tudes to get me to the goal of freedom.

 

So I guess my confession is this: I fell apart

 

Every blog point flew out the window, as I attentively listened to every lie the Enemy hurled at me. The lies were the flying monkeys trying to keep me from my goal, my God. I am so blessed that my friends fought beside me. That I felt safe enough to speak out loud what was holding me captive. That my home is full of love and grounded in Truth.

 

Pray for me please. I really do want to glorify God in all that I do and to hold loosely to what He has given me, yet cling tightly to Him. To do so I am often fighting with my flesh. I am afraid to fail and also to succeed, so I often just remain where I am. I can’t do that anymore. The scales are coming off my eyes and I realize change is coming. Pray I am in the right place, doing the right thing, to achieve His glory.

 

*Wanted to show through the bringing up of past posts how God has been threading understanding and solid ground into my life and relationships through revelations over the past year. All the glory to Him and his masterful ways.