My story didn't start yesterday. It didn't start last year. It didn't even start ten years ago. While my story, like all of yours, has been in a state of becoming since I was born, the part of my story that nearly killed me started in 1990 and first became traumatic in 1991. That's over 23 years ago. After my father died (not unexpected--he was 81), I felt the grief that anyone would feel at the death of a father. I was the baby, so maybe it was harder for me; I'm really not sure. However, in July, 1991, my world was shaken. My baby, Tommy, died at 24 weeks gestation. It was not a stillbirth; he lived for eleven days. Miracles happened both during and after his birth; still, my precious son died. I'm not going into that now--that's not the point of this post. Thirteen months after Tommy died, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy named David. Two months after David was born, I started a new job. Four months after that, my husband unexpectedly died. He had a cerebral aneurysm and lived for eleven days, just like my son. I'm not going into any of that right now, either. That's not the point of the post. I struggled with grief, suicidal thoughts, horrible decisions, miserable choices, and then--I began to experience healing. THAT is STILL not the point of this post. But patience, friends. I'm getting there.
As I began to experience healing, I was unable to do much more than receive for the first several years. When I was able to reach outward, at first it was only through writing and singing. But before too long, I began to want to serve others--to help others in the way that I myself had been helped. I took 2 Corinthians 1:4 as my life verse: He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. However, the more I asked God to allow me a chance to help others, the less likely it seemed that he would do so. I never understood why, but nothing ever seemed to work out. Whenever I asked for a chance to help, the answer I got was "wait." But I didn't want to wait!
Well, here it is, 23 years later, and I find myself preparing. I know that the time is not yet at hand, but it is coming. I am resting in the Lord, waiting on Him, and He is reminding me every day of something that He wants me to take into this new life. One day I will remember a miracle, another day I will remember the sweetness of a healing, another memory will come of something that he showed me in his Word that brought an understanding that I hadn't yet received. I see all these things coming together.
One thing, though, that I hadn't seen, was this. I understand now why I had to wait all these years. It took that much time for me to be ready. Not healed, ready. I couldn't have taken the steps that I'm about to take even 5 years ago. It took people criticizing my Spanish to understand that people mean only good when they criticize. It took people proofreading my stories (in Spanish) and projects for me to realize that you don't disintegrate when you receive criticism. It took me having opportunities through the years to sing, to share my story, and to share my readings to understand that it moves people when I do so, and it can bring healing. I didn't understand that 23 years ago. I understand it now.
So I wait again, and hopefully for the last time. I know that at the end of this waiting, I'll be free to help others receive the hope and healing that they can find through God. It will be truly time. And I will be so thankful that I waited.
So this is my point to you: as Winston Churchill said, Never never EVER give up! You might be in a holding pattern, too, and the days may see pointless and long. Please do remember that God is walking your path with you. He knows how long you need before you're ready to take wing and fly. Please don't despair--he will give you the desire of your heart. He WILL. Just have faith.
By the way, I'm discovering that you are leaving comments and somehow they're not appearing. Please email me at meggiev7777@gmail.com until I figure out what's going on. I so want to hear from you.
God bless you!
As we walk down our road, from time to time we notice pebbles along our way. Sometimes they're nothing more than pretty little stones, but other times they are there to remind us of battles we have fought, demons we have conquered, or even times that we've lost and learned valuable lessons in the losing. We can choose to leave the pebbles where they are and forget, or we can pick up the pebbles and turn them into markers--reminders of our journey and the lessons learned.
Hey, guys, please do try to comment here. I've changed settings and want to know if it's working. Pleeeze???
ReplyDeleteI love your writings.
DeleteThanks--if you want, you could add your name. :) This is a new way of replying for me so that you don't have to sign in as anyone. If you don't have a blog or website, you'll be anonymous, so you might want to put your name in your comment--unless you want me to guess :)
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