Will you pray with me?

Today has been one of those days. 

I had a great run yesterday morning and again today.  As I got to work my mind decided I was going to be hungry all day. Truth be told I was hungrier yesterday than I have been today. But all morning, my mind has gone over and over ways to get extra food.  I even planned on going to Fred Meyers at lunch to get something additional (unhealthy of course), as I always do when this fear overwhelms me.

But as I warmed up my lunch the Spirit finally got through!

'Wait, I'm not hungry?'

I was hungry, ready for lunch of course.  But I was not ravenous. 

Then it dawned on me; I'm not afraid of going hungry, I just hate the feeling of being hungry.

Do I hear you say “but it is the same thing”?  Not for me it isn’t.  I remember what that hollow emptiness feels like as you try to make it through class in the afternoon.  I remember trying to go to sleep as hunger gnawed at my insides. Oh yes, I remember what that hollow pit, and I will do anything to avoid it.

So I overeat.

I ALWAYS have food on me.  I

It overwhelms me if I don’t.  This fear, gnawing at my insides.  Anything is better than that hollow pain…right?

This chain of fear is wrapped around my throat cutting off all oxygen and sanity.  Yet I am choosing to believe that I can overcome this fear as long as I have Him.  So instead of racing to Freddie's I am on my knees, begging the Spirit to fill this void and let this fear haunt me no more.

  Will you pray with me?

My Deepest Fear

Yesterday, I was driving a friends truck to run an errand at lunch.  As I distractedly pulled out of my parking space, I came head to head with another car and had to slam on my brakes.  Luckily avoided a small fender bender and started back to work.  However,  I realized I was quite timid when trying to pull into traffic.  So I started to ponder fear in my life and how I react to it.  More specifically how often does fear keep from doing something I love or have been called to do?

If I am being honest, fear holds me back more than I ever want to admit.  Even as a small child I was motivated by fear.  I was a 'good kid’ merely because having someone yell at me terrified me to the point of tears.  Later in my marriage I wasn’t afraid of what my husband would do, but of the unknown possibilities if I left.  As a police officer, I would hide in my car on slow nights for fear if I could handle the situation or not.  Even when I came to Christ nothing changed, shouldn’t it have.  After all a spirit of fear is not from God and I am now a child of His.

Oh how I wish it was that simple.

Truth be told, I wrestle more with fear now than in the past.  The bright side of this struggle is that the fear no longer Lords over me because I do wrestle with it.  I look at it, acknowledge it and try to release it to God.  The fears same fears haunt me on a daily basis.  One wrong move and BAM I am staring my old friend in the face again. 

Every day I fear what I do is not enough for the Grace I have been given. 

I fear that I will say or do something that will cause someone to reject me. 

My biggest fear though, is such a simple one, but one I can't seem to release.  I fear that there won't be food for me to eat at my next meal and if I find something I like I will devour it.  Not because I am hungry or even to fill an emotional void.  Merely because I can and the thought of being hungry consumes me.

When I say consume, I mean consume.  There are days I can think of nothing else.  My stomach will hurt I am so full, yet I fear there may not be food next time, so I will have another serving.

I have made giant leaps against this foe.  For example, I no longer hoard food.  I choose to eat healthy more often than not.  However, fear grips my heart on a daily basis that I may feel even the slightest twinge of hunger.  The comfort of the known, leaves me at the end of my rope refusing to let go.  What if I let go and He doesn’t catch me.

The most frustrating part of where I am right now is I know that if I let go I will fall into his arms and drown in the grace and mercy of my Lord. 

I know I will emerge from the waters of His love stronger in my faith and more like Him than before.

But I don 't KNOW what that journey looks like.  So out of fear I cling to my misery…God help me.

What a mess I am...thankfully it is beautiful mess.

Is there a fear that you cling to regardless of how faithful He is?

Moving on.

One word, one choice, one sentence.

Sometimes that is all it takes.  “Stop living in the pain, and learn to live in My joy”.  As I woke this morning, God whispered these words to my soul.

Lets go backwards a little.  Yesterday, my counselor said I was living as a victim.  Instead she said I need to learn to be a survivor.  No longer surviving, and no longer living in pain.  That one statement closed the door on my past. 

It is still there and I am sure there is more to process.  But it does not define me.   Instead, my one true Father, Savior and His guiding Spirit are what defines me.

Today is a new day.

That wall

I know there is something wrong.

It eats at me day and night. 

I try to write and nothing comes out.

I look at my book and look on past.

I look at each emotion…

Am I angry? I was but I think we worked through that.

Am I sad? Nope, we slogged through that mess as well.

Am I happy? For the most part, I guess.

Do I have joy? When I think of Him I do.

I just am, nothing can explain it and only He can help it. I think about meeting with Him and feel I have nothing to say. 

Well nothing of value anyway.

What good are the prayers of a broken woman.  A girl, who has no clue what her age is because her emotions still haven’t caught up with her body. 

How can He really love me…

Awww, so that is what is eating at me…

Even in the storm He is good.

Had somewhat of a traumatic experience on the bus today.  But I refuse to not  praise God and how He carried me through.  So first here are some small praises for Him and Him alone.

He protected by saying “here and no further”.

He comforted me with His words and whispered to my heart.

He wrapped me in His arms and carried me home, regardless of how hard each step was.

He provided an amazing support system in my two roommates to walk me out of the storm.

He proved once again He is trustworthy, has always protected me and He always will.

Now that you are on the edge of your seat, let me first say,I just had my personal space violated, thankfully that was it.  However, it doesn’t change the fact that I felt trapped, terrified and taken back over 10 years.

As I got on the bus tonight (I have started taking public transit, the bike is too hard on my back), I felt the Spirit urge me to sit on the seat next to the window.  So I obliged trusting that small voice and gave up the safe seat on the aisle.

As I sat reading through Facebook status on my phone this burly beast of a man mumbled something and sat down in the seat next to me.  No big deal, until he made sure to sit close enough that our legs were touching and almost our shoulders.  I felt myself shrink away and try to make the metal outside of the bus stretch.

I glanced at a friends Facebook status and found that verse staring at me.  You know that one that is always there when you need it the most, hiding on a wall, or sitting in the bookstore window. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, plans to give you a future and a hope” Jer 29:11.  It was then I recognized the fear that seemed to paralyze me in my seat.  I whispered my first prayer to Him and I heard that still small voice remind me that a spirit of fear does not come from the Lord.

To make matters worse, the man had an odor about him that took me back to my marriage.  It is the smell of a person who consumes so much alcohol that they no longer sweat water.  Instead, alcohol leaks out of their every pore, drunk or sober.  This is the smell that permeated my life with my ex-husband.  He smelled of it, his mom smelled of it and so did his dad.

I continued to pray trying to hide in the peace and finding it a struggle.  I began to feel light headed from not taking a full breathe in five minutes.  Finally he reached over me and pulled the stop line, and exited the bus. 

I slumped into my seat, and continued to scroll through Facebook as if nothing had just happened. Unwilling to face it I crawled to the max, feeling violated and terrified of every person near.  Still refusing to admit my feelings, I tried to concentrate on my phone and could hardly bring it into focus.  I even called a friend and refused to admit how traumatized I felt.  Instead I told her that I didn’t know how I felt about a minor happening on the max and just needed to process.  When in fact I wanted to run all the way home jump in the shower and scrub until that feeling went away.  Wait isn’t that how rape victims feel, not me, he didn’t touch me.

As I walked though I made a choice to not run and I let the tears begin to flow.  I talked to God, got angry with God and continued to cry.  When I reached my apartment I snuck in the door and silently crept into my room.  For ages (well it felt like it) I wept on my bed praying they would hear me, hoping I wouldn’t have to ask for help.  Finally I left my room and  my roommates engulfed me in their love, talked me through my emotions, and validated how I felt.

In the end, it was only a minor thing, that showed me a lot of big things about who I am, and who I am in Christ.   I didn’t run!  I didn’t shut down!  And God walked with me through the whole thing!

Praise the King of Kings, I am a new creation in Him and He will carry me through all!

Good men do exist

I am tired and don’t feel like writing.  But I am trying to keep a promise I made to myself, so here goes nothing.  I am having a hard time writing lately and I think it may be due to all the blogs I have been reading.  My writing style is so different from the majority of them.  Also, I am reading a lot of blogs on dating and relationships, two things I have very little experience in.  In reality I have no experience in.

I just finished one that was talking about being a good woman.  Her point was that we as women have a tendency to sabotage ourselves by not thinking there are any good men out there.  We don’t think there are good men, so why should we try to be good women. 

This section stopped me in my tracks.  “Women, when you believe that you will be unhappy until you meet a good man, and simultaneously believe that good men do not exist, you sabotage yourself. You frustrate yourself. You hinder and are hindered. You are defeated. You find that your previous actions – your time, your love, your heart, your passion, your beauty, your hope, your sacrifice, your sex, your gifts – are nullified and devastated. And when this happens, when we throw our hearts and bodies into a man less than the one we dare to hope for, the desire to be an incredible woman is slowly stripped from us.”  (Click Here to read more)

I have been struggling lately with wanting to look cute.  Yet I don’t fix my hair, I don’t wear make up and I do very little to look ‘cute’.  Yet, would I be attracted to a man who was not being the best he could be.  Now I know that my looks aren’t the important part to me.  But if I want to be fully the woman that the “good man” I deserve would want, shouldn’t I put forth a little effort?

Middle ground

Came across this blog tonight on how to tell if you are woman who fears the Lord.  (Read here, by Fabs)  It made me think of two things, how far I have come and how far I have to go.

The past few months have been a whirlwind journey of transformation as I have learned to truly trust God.  6 months ago, I did not trust Him with much.  Tonight, I trust Him with almost everything.  The reward for this process has been the peace that brings such joy to my life.  To rest in the truth that I am the beloved of the King of Kings.

On the other hand, I have so much to learn about walking in this peace.  In her blog Fabs states “True strength looks like contentment.  Do you want to know if your fear of the Lord overflows into strength?  Do you envy others?  Threads of discontentment reveal a heart that does not fully grasp the greatness and goodness of our maker.”  Contentment is something I still struggle with.  Friends buy houses and I envy their freedom to settle down.  Others have babies, I wonder how long I will be single.  They deepen relationships, I feel lost at sea uncertain where I belong. 

So much to learn, yet thankful it is all about the process. 

What do you think of the process?  What does strength in a woman look like to you?