Her words were simple, and they hit me in a place where only God could have known I needed them.
Lisa, when you write…angels sing and dance and when I read your written words so do I!
I haven’t thought too much of my writing lately. Of my ability to write at all, if I’m completely honest.
I’ve spent the past few days in a recovery period of sorts. I’m not sure where it was along the way that I lost my equilibrium, but over the past week or so I’ve begun to realize just how much I needed to stop. be still. rest.
And when I finally broke and gave into that rest, I saw how broken I really was.
All I could manage to utter was, “I can’t do it. I just can’t do it.” What “it” was, I’m not even sure I could articulate, but I knew I couldn’t keep going like before.
I’ve spent the past fifteen months pouring my heart and soul into a ministry and a community of women who need hope. I don’t regret a moment of that pouring, because I know it was God-ordained. It was right. And through that ministry many friendships were forged that I will carry with me throughout my life. I will always be grateful for that.
Ministry weighs heavily on the shoulders of the strongest and most whole. Stick it on the back of someone who has soul wounds of her own and there’s a knee-fall in the future, no question.
But isn’t that how we help others–by showing them our own scars mostly healed and extending a hand to cup a chin quivering from too much to bear at once much like where we ourselves have been? Aren’t we just reaching into the mirror when we reach out to help someone else?
God has peculiar ways of showing us it’s time to shift direction. Peculiar to us, of course, because His ways are higher than ours. I don’t pretend to understand His whys, especially considering I do well to understand what I’m doing at any given moment and I have just me and my little realm to deal with.
It’s been empty and lonely since I broke. And maybe it’s supposed to be. In the quiet I hear God whispering again. I’ve missed that.
Still, I’m struggling a bit with the silence in some respects. I’m not even sure what it is I want to hear, but silence is deafening. My mind takes it places it shouldn’t, hard as I try not to let that happen. But I am fighting it. I am.
So today, when my beautiful friend gifted me those words it brought me to tears, grateful that she took the time to hold out such a treasure from her heart to mine. It’s like God custom ordered a present He knew would be perfect.
Because if me writing makes angels sing and dance, how could I give up on it?