Why it’s not time to give up… yet.

Every time I sit down to write something, I stare at the blank page, with the cursor pulsing as if to say, “Well, what are you going to say?! Don’t just sit there!”

So I close the page and think to myself, “Maybe tomorrow?
And tomorrow comes and goes… without so much as a keystroke.

Today, while staring at the cursor, I began typing just to interrupt it’s rhythm.
I started writing to spite my cursor.

As the thoughts keep coming, it’s difficult to move my fingers quickly enough. Words are skipped and thoughts are gone before they can be noted, but there is always another one to take the last ones place.

FullSizeRender

looking back, I’m really glad Chris took this pic.

Last week, I gave up hope.
I was sicker than I have ever been in my life.

An infection that started in one area of my body quickly spread to my throat and sinus’, making it difficult to breathe and threatening to grow new abscess’, pushing on the two large arteries in the sides of my neck. My words were muffled and I couldn’t speak above a whisper. My mind hurt as my head throbbed and the sound of my heart beating in my ears was a constant companion.

My eyes cried tears of grief on and off for 7 days even though my body had given up.

I thought I was going to die.
I decided it was okay to die.
I processed everything that would happen to my children… the celebrations and milestones I would miss.
I would never again laugh with Chris or kiss his mouth…
My niece would grow up only hearing stories about me, never knowing me…

It was, by far, one of the deepest, darkest, pits I have ever fallen into and the more I lay with my face against the cold ground, the deeper I sank into the abyss.

As I type, the logical part of my brain (which is small and rarely speaks up) is telling me to shut up. The more I type, the louder it gets. This is deeply personal and one of you needs to read this today… in this moment. You are contemplating giving up hope and what you do not realize is that your miracle is only a few breaths away.

I began to understand and embrace the meaning of the phrase, “My soul aches.

It’s as if, with one long exhale, my desire to exist was extinguished and I released my children, my lover, my best friends, my family, my memories, my future plans… everything went dark and the world became still.

I didn’t beg God for life, bargain for more time, or recount any regrets.
I simply closed my eyes and went to sleep with the thought that if I didn’t wake up on that bed in the ER, that’s what was supposed to happen and I didn’t have the strength or desire to fight it.

For several months now, I have been praying this prayer,
“God, break my heart for what breaks yours. Stretch me far from my place of comfort and lead me to the cross… into the center of other people’s pain. Teach me how to trust you, sitting quietly in your presence, even when it’s uncomfortable..”

I want to know Christ in a deeply personal way. As I began asking God what exactly that meant, the prayer above is what came into my spirit as clear as if someone spoke it audibly to me in conversation. I don’t know why I thought intimacy with my Savior could ever be attained without suffering.

So to sum this up…
I had to sit in the moments of desolation.
I had to trust that God still held me closely in His will.
I had to believe that He wouldn’t leave me where He had led me.
I had to call out the hollow, hopeless feeling for what it was… a feeling, that no matter how “real” it felt, would eventually pass.
I had to claim life.

I receive the gifts that came from a season of dwelling in the darkness.
One might argue that a couple of weeks does not a season make. I would have to disagree.

My Friend, if you are learning how to walk in the dark, without fear of being swallowed up, keep going, the other side is well worth the journey.

10 thoughts on “Why it’s not time to give up… yet.

  1. Pingback: Stepping Into the Light | Even A Girl Like Me

  2. Joy, that sounds like such a scary experience! I couldn’t agree more though; walking through the darkness helps us appreciate God’s overwhelming light. I know you are thankful to be on this side of that season.

  3. Joy,
    I am sorry that you were so sick. I am thankful for what you learned through it. I have been in the dark where of the potential outcomes death was close to being preferred. It is hard to get to the point where you know you have no control over where things will go and you have to throw it all on God. It is also liberating when you are at that point too. It is really how we should live … “With God all in”.
    I am glad you expose the dark to others so they can see that it can be overcome. You do that so well.

    • Thank you, Mark.
      I try not to be a downer, but it was clear to me yesterday that I would be unable to write about anything else until I shared this specific experience. Hopefully it helped someone. Blessings to you, Friend, in this coming year.

  4. Pingback: » Why it’s not time to give up… yet.

  5. I’ve been there girlfriend. I was hospitalized and so sick … I too was ready to go should He call… ready to leave it all behind and go to my forever home. But it was not His will and the feelings of utter hopelessness passed. I too have learned to call feelings what they are … feelings and nothing more. “Faith is believing the word of God and acting on it because I KNOW God promises a good result.” Our Church uses this phrase and it is so true .. we live by Faith and believing what God says is true. He never leaves us or forsakes us, He is a friend that sticks closer than a brother. God Bless Friend and Glad you are feeling better and back to your family! SusanJill

    • Thank you for relating to this SusanJill. It was an experience like no other I have ever had. You are right, never did he leave me or forsake me. I’m so very grateful. Blessings to you, friend.

Now it's your turn to talk

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s