So, this am began as many do: with me in search of coffee (decaf now as I am preggo…yes I like coffee THAT much) and a plan for the day. Last nite, during a much anticipated storm, I vowed to pray for a certain amount of time in order to get a little closer to the God I know in a fragmented way and love dearly. As I sat down, I remembered I had to make a phone call. Then as I began to type, I got a phone call. It was at this time that I realized I needed to start dinner. You can guess how it goes and how distraction, even important ones, play a role in keeping us from doing what we need to.
It was brought to my attention that God has many names and the reason for that is so that we can begin to understand Him. For instance, He is not only our Provider, He is our Protectector and our Friend. There are so many facets to God, I can only hope to one day know Him as one of His numerous names. He is our Tower of Safety, which I greatly needed last night, and He is a Lord Who Heals. I know from first-hand experience He is a Healer, as I should not be able to do half of what I can, due to a syndrome. As I type this, I feel something tell me that I can’t do many things and that I never did my 5K and that there are many days where I feel as though I’ve been hit by a MACK truck. I hear that if God is a Healer, then what happened with my uncle? He had cancer. Is cancer too big for my God? One of the most immense and important ways I have grown in this walk is recognizing the voice of the enemy. He is always there to question, condemn, steal, kill, and destroy—he does this on a daily basis to people’s hopes, dreams, and joy. He tells me that no one will benefit from my writing this and I’m wasting my time. And to that, I say with all the maturity I can muster, “Ppppppppppbbbbbbbfffffffthhhhhttttt!” (I think that’s how that’s spelled.”)
The fact is, I started this blog as a means to my own end…to pain and hurt, both emotional and physical. It was my therapy, as no one, not even your mother wants to hear when you say you don’t care if you live or die. That’s exactly where I was at not too long ago and God has not only delivered me from a deep, dark, self-pitying depression, but also from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome complete with Fibromayalgia pain. He has saved me from my own choices in that I no longer choose to drown my feelings in a can of beer and I no longer have to hold a cigarette in my hand if I am stressed…or happy…or saddened…or bewildered. (I really love that word.) My biggest fear is that I will be judged and I know now that fear is not an option for me any longer. I have become a bold, Christian woman, one that doesn’t shrink back and disguise herself as one who doesn’t know anything about anything. God is good, all the time, no matter what lies the devil throws your way. It is because of Him that I am able to put myself out there.