Chapter 9

No other "gods" before me

As Ryan and I both began to volunteer at this workshop that changed our lives, I began to experience God in a totally different way than I had before.

So much so that it started to become a battlefield of the mind.

I was seeing Jesus move and work and people’s lives were totally being transformed, including mine. Yet, I would hear an old belief about “God” and it would make me so feel paralyzed. I knew that Jesus was moving and working in a way that I hadn’t seen before, and yet, it was viewed in a negative light by many fellow Christians. How could this freedom, new life, peace and hope be taken away so easily? It was like a tape would play in my mind. No matter what I would try to combat it with, the tape would not stop. I would feel deafened by it and all the negativity would try to steal the joy away from the things that I was experiencing daily. I rejoiced in what Jesus was doing, and yet, felt the negativity had a grip on me I could not seem to let it go.

At that time I was regularly going through a truth ministry process. So many things were stirred up in my heart and I was starting to feel for the first time in a long time. I needed some help to get past the wounds of my past and move forward into more freedom of my heart. Jesus began unraveling all of the lies that I believed and He started peeling back all of the layers and revealing the truth. Why did this particular thing have such a hold on me?

Jesus answered this question in the most memorable way.

He showed me what the inside of my heart might look like.

Then He showed me a picture of someone slamming down a Trojan horse in my heart.

Seeping out of it were a million different ideas about God like spiders crawling everywhere into my heart. Most of the beliefs coming in were currently not mine, but had been mine in the past. It was as if each time I allowed someone else’s opinion to come in that there was a false god that enveloped my heart. Almost like an idol. I believed these beliefs or opinions to be about "the true God" at some point in my life but was entirely wrong. I now knew that even in the Scriptures, there was no backing to these things and yet, the habits were so strong, that it was hard to combat the lies I was hearing. I could see that Trojan horse being thrown down in my heart and I watched all of those things crawling out and entangling my heart in the worst of ways. I asked Jesus to help me destroy any false beliefs about Jesus that I had learned or picked up in life. I watched as the Trojan horse and its affiliates were consumed with fire. Some ashes remained, and Jesus slowly swept them up and carried them away.

After the ashes were swept away, a new thing came in its place.

A Living Room.

Just He and I were inside. He sat across from me and wanted to talk to me each time I had a question. I could see a library full of truths He wanted me to know. He invited me to join Him there anytime I wanted to talk out a problem I was having. The peace that encompassed my heart is so hard to explain.

For the next few weeks I was amazed to find how many things I could let go of and how much easier it was to sink into that Living Room and chat with Jesus and for Him to show me the way.

What an amazing revelation.

I now pray to Jesus Christ of Nazareth, God who came in the flesh. Just to clarify the there is no other God, no other opinion of God and no other belief about God that comes even close to comparing to the one true, Jesus. My Jesus came to save me from not only my sin, but from other gods that were trying to encompass my life.

Weeding out the other voices and listening to His voice re-invented the way that I lived.

Chapter 8

Daddy's Little Girl

Guilty. Yes, I was guilty.

Ryan and I rocked the color coordinated outfits.

Our girls wore matching dresses.

Sundays came and went with us being able to pull off the look that we were hoping to attain to. Yet, the look that meant everything really meant nothing if we were both miserable and dying inside. Why was that look so important? I guess it was just a sign that we were o.k. that everything was fine and that our lives were what

everyone thought they should be.

Now, while I'm certainly not against these things, I love a good color coordinated day, (smile) when it was portraying something that I was not, I was beginning to resent them altogether. Why couldn't I just pick some sweatpants (insert shocked look here) and a big sweatshirt and sit in the back of church and beg someone to help me. I guess pride and acceptance. That would have torn apart the image we were upholding and how did that benefit us?

Trying to live up to someone that you cannot be is crippling. I wished deeply sometimes that this could work because then we would be able to keep so many people happy, but we were just miserable. I was constantly vexed between these two things. I definitely wanted to be accepted and yet couldn't for the life of me do what it took to be accepted. I wish I could have worked harder, done better, been able to pull this off, but I was broken. Something had broken inside of me that would not go away. Broken in need of repair, "Did anyone else feel this way?" I would often wonder.

That's where Jesus came in.

He "wrecked" me, some beautiful friends of mine say it that way and I love that. He "wrecked" who I wanted to be, thought I should be and would strive to be. He took all of that away and just loved me.

RIDICULOUS!

What was I supposed to do with that? He loved me in my sweatpants on the couch cuddling with my Kate. He loved me when I was so frustrated with Julia I couldn't stand myself. He loved me when I lashed out to Ryan and knew I shouldn't have. He loved me when I was in high heels, just as much as He did when I was in shorts, in my backyard, watching my girls splash around in the pool He had given us.

What was that all about? That blew my idea of Christianity. So instead of me doing all of those things to "get His attention" so to speak, I already had His attention and He loved me. I had heard sermons so many times titled, "If you were born in Mary's day, would you be the Mary?" I wanted to be with everything in me. I wanted to be the one to get His attention and for Him to say, "Aha! She's the one that is doing everything right!" But, it didn't work that way. He just loved me, for me.

I had a hard time allowing myself to let this fully sink in and so I asked Jesus about it.

He again shared a beautiful truth with me.

There He sat. Everywhere in my life.

-He was at my Kindergarten graduation out in the audience cheering me on.

-He was at a church play rooting for me shouting out my name.

-He was there through a time that I had gotten in trouble where His heart ached for me.

-He sat having tea parties with me.

-He was at my wedding and with my dad was walked me down the aisle.

-He was at my girls' births and held them gently in His arms, proudly kissing their faces welcoming them into this world...

It went on and on. He showed me picture after picture and time after time where He was there with me, not just there, but rooting for me, cheering my name, speaking out love and acceptance and joy. My heart overflowed. As He was showing me these things, this song played through my headset...

You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold,

You're daddy's little girl to have and to hold.

A precious gem is what you are,

You're mom-my's bright and shining star.

You're the spirit of Christmas, my star on the tree,

You're the Easter Bunny to mommy and me;

You're sugar, you're spice, you're everything nice,

And you're daddy's little girl.

You're the treasure I cherish, so sparkling and bright;

You were touched by the Holy and beautiful light.

Like angels that sing, a heavenly thing,

And you're daddy's little girl.

I was his little girl. He was proud of me. Matching outfits or not, skirts or not, perfect home life or not, I was His little girl and that acceptance changed the way I viewed everything.

Chapter 7

The slow change begins

While it seemed that some things were on fast forward,

others seemed to be taking their time.

The freedom that we had found was so beautiful for our marriage that I found myself crumbling under it. Being strong emotionally when I felt so weak seemed to come to an end and I found myself being able to let go of some marriage battles I had faced and settle in on my own dirty laundry so to speak. I found so many things were not right side up in my own life and began asking Jesus to show me what they were.

I had allowed other people to rule my life.

They told me how I needed to be, how I needed to live

and what I needed to do to be a good Christian.

I was a guilt-ridden soul striving for

perfection in Jesus.

That couldn't be found, perfection, so that left me feeling...never good enough. I felt this way

100% of the time and that if I could just do more, be more, my life would be blessed and I would finally achieve that perfect relationship with Jesus everyone seemed to talk about. The problem was I couldn't pull my body, family and life together enough to do that.

After I met Jesus that weekend in August, (see Chapter 2) my beliefs changed so much about what Jesus thought of me, who I was created to be and I knew, just knew that...

He smiled when I called His name.

I knew that, and my heart knew that, but I would get fooled into thinking otherwise and then I would lose my focus on Jesus. Then I would begin having thoughts of failure, low self worth and contempt for myself in not being able to pull off the whole perfect image I had been trying to achieve.

Why was it when I would spend a weekend seeing with my own eyes, healings and conversions of believers, could one person say one thing against this way of life and it send me spiraling down? The words from others seemed to be drowning me, even though I knew the truth.

This was the truth: Jesus had set me free. He had restored my marriage. He was all that I needed. He was all that I wanted. Absolutely everything else didn't matter.

Yet here I was, having no idea how to walk away from who everyone else wanted me to be, just to be me. Rebekah Faith. What did Jesus have in mind when He created me? Who did He want me to be? What did this new Friend and Saviour have in store for my life?

Surely it wasn't drowning in other people's beliefs, opinions and expectations.

I, with the help of some friends, asked Jesus about this. I saw a picture of myself with my feet wrapped tightly. So tightly that they could not grow and they were all bound up, like they do in different cultures to keep feet from growing. As I tried to take a step, my feet were bound with

other people's expectations, other people's opinions, the expected walk of a good Christian

woman, the guilt, the shame and the blanket of failure from not being the best at this Christian life. So, much so that when I tried to walk forward I would fall to the ground because my feet could not grow as long as they were wrapped up in these false beliefs or idols.

Jesus then showed me a picture of Him unraveling them and placing His hands on my feet and healing them and setting me free to run, down the path that He had created for me!

IT WAS GLORIOUS!

I had become a new fan of acting things out in the physical to give myself a picture of what He was doing deep in my heart and so I choose to act this out on the top of a hill one beautiful day.

I brought a white sheet with me and a marker. I began to pray and ask Jesus to bring everything to mind that was binding my feet from running on the journey that He had for me.

I wrote down each one on the torn pieces of sheet.

I wrapped them all around my legs and feet and asked Jesus to release these things

from me as I removed them forever.

Slowly, I placed each one into a pot that I had brought along and watched them turn from a mess of black marker and white strips into ashes that could never be restored.

As a sort of "Bethel" reminder, I placed some rocks on the place that I had given these expectations to Jesus.

I spread the ashes in a nearby cemetery. Those things had died within me and I stood up and walked out of the cemetery that day down a new path, the path Jesus had made for me.

Chapter 6

Hope in the waiting

Coincidentally the very same night that the workshop started for Ryan, Paul Young, the author of "The Shack" was speaking at a nearby bookstore. I had a prayer group with some friends so we were super pumped to take our prayer group over to Barnes and Noble that night.

When we got there I was blown away by the simplicity of the author and how Jesus redeemed the author's marriage and his life. He told some amazing stories about Jesus and His redemptive power that night and it grew my faith while I was waiting for my own redemptive story to unfold. Afterwards, we stood in line and asked if in addition to signing our books, he would pray for Ryan that night. It was absolutely beautiful as several of us gathered on behalf of the Kingdom of Heaven and once again asked for a miracle for him and for our lives.

Such impeccable timing in our story.

That night the battle raged, so to speak and for the next few nights things seemed to only be getting worse. I tried to keep myself busy and not think about what would happen if this failed. What if nothing happened after the workshop, or worse yet, if Ryan hated the place and the people that had helped to bring me to the feet of Jesus. I tossed and turned and slept very little. What I did hear from Ryan was not hopeful and the emotions of it all beckoned to overwhelm me.

Then Sunday night came

Ryan had been there for 4 days now and I hadn't heard one good thing come from it. I wrestled in what felt like agony and great loss coming to the conclusion that hope was slipping from my grips.

I was wiping off a highchair in the church nursery when I got the phone call. I answered very hesitantly, unsure of what would come next. The workshop was over. What I heard next is a conversation that I will cherish forever.

It sounded like a person who had just been set free.

I heard joy, excitement and love and listened to stories about what miracles Jesus had done throughout the weekend. All the way home from church I listened. The sound of someone released to be themselves and to be who God created them to be is so melodious. He had learned that he was enough. That who he was, not fitting into any one particular mold, but just being Ryan was enough. He came home and for the next few weeks had different revelations about who he was and I could see big layers falling off of him and off of my heart towards him. I was able to see through to the heart of who he was and it was absolutely amazing. He was overjoyed at the thought of volunteering to help other people to get this freedom, too and weeks later he signed up and was now part of the "cult" that helped to set people free. Oh, but now he changed his mind on the cult idea realizing that people needed to meet Jesus face to face so desparately. Whether it was inside or outside of a church building, feeling the love of Jesus and caring for the children of Heaven was life-changing. Marriages were being restored, people were being set free from drugs, alcohol, life long illnesses, body pain, anger, rage and forgiveness was transforming lives, too. I watched him evolve into the man of my dreams as he prayed over people, blessed people and loved people that he had never met because he could see who they really were in the eyes of Jesus Christ. They were beautiful and so were we, Jesus was re-making this beautiful thing and we were living on the highs of what it felt like to be loved, accepted and forgiven. And let me tell you, that is a really great place to live.

Now for the rest of my family...

Chapter 5

There is a fountain filled with blood

With Ryan safely tucked away at the workshop I could do what I did best--worry and then pray and then worry and then pray. My girls were taking a nap and I was on my knees praying for Ryan. No, I was not ultra spiritual, just ultra desperate. As I was praying, it was as if my eyes started to see things they had never seen before. This was one of my first clear glimpses of Heaven and it completely changed my life.

I saw this beautiful thing transpire before my eyes:

It was Heaven, I could see Heaven and I've never seen anything so magnificent.

There was a crowd of people cheering for Jesus,

He was making His way down a vast aisle with two little children at His side.

Jesus had something in His hands and was

bringing it to the most breathtaking thing I had ever seen.

It was a fountain of blood.

Now this fountain was so vast, I couldn't see the top or around it.

It was flowing in a sparkling, beautiful way.

Jesus and these two little ones took what Jesus had brought in His hands

and placed it in the fountain.

When I asked what it was, I heard that it was Ryan's heart.

Jesus was placing it there to be cleansed, washed clean and made whole.

It would be there for a while, I wasn't sure how long.

Everyone in Heaven seemed to think that this was a monumental thing and they were praising and singing songs, all different ones at the same time, but it was so harmonious.

Then Jesus gave the order as He turned around.

"Now, go and fight for Ryan's soul."

The two little ones were at the front of the battle with Jesus

but blew kisses to me before they left.

My little angels that I had lost here, were not just safe in Heaven,

they were fighting for our family, in the Heavenly realm.

My heart was exploding. Jesus was taking care of them. They were in the best of hands.

As a huge army in Heaven went to fight on Ryan's behalf, they were chanting,

"Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight"

and just like that, it was like there was an angelic swoop and they were gone.

I sat there in my living room tears streaming down my face,

wondering what in the world I had just seen.

Shortly after that, I was preparing to sing a special in church. A solo, which was not something I had usually done. The very sweet pianist had picked out a very old, dry song for me with a "new" arrangement. I would have preferred a Kari Jobe or Chris Rice song, because those songs were very near to my heart at the time, but she had been the one to choose so I very half-heartily began to sing.

I held Kate (1) in my hands, was watching Jewels (4) run around the platform and like I had done at least 200 times I started to sing the verse of this very old hymn that I knew by heart.

1. There is a fountain filled with blood,
   Drawn from Immanuel’s veins,
   And sinners plunged beneath that flood
   Lose all their guilty stains.
2. The dying thief rejoiced to see
   That fountain in His day;
   And there have I, though vile as he,
   Washed all my sins away.
3. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
   Shall never lose its pow’r,
   Till all the ransomed church of God
   Are safe, to sin no more.
4. E’er since by faith I saw the stream
   Thy flowing wounds supply,
   Redeeming love has been my theme,
   And shall be till I die.
5. 
   

The rest of the verses I muddled through, but could barely get out the words...E'er since by faith I saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme and shall be till I die. The pianist was concerned telling me I should sing louder, but I could barely breathe.

Someone had written about this and had seen this a long time ago. Here I sat decades later singing a song that I had sung a million times and now for the first time, it meant everything to me. The lump in my throat seemed to be taking over and the tears were so hot and stinging in my eyes I didn't know how much longer I could keep them in. She asked if I was o.k. There was no way to explain what was happening in my heart. I left as soon as I could and cried the whole way home.

My husband's heart was being cared for by the King of Heaven and that fountain was not only real, but it was cleansing my life, my marriage and my future.

When I eventually sang that song in church it was as if I could see the fountain and see the smiles of the King and His children and my children. I was pretty overjoyed to have Heaven fighting for me.

Chapter 4

Getting up the guts...

Maybe for you change is easy, but for me at the time it was not. I had to start living a whole different way. Instead of engaging in arguing with Ryan, I just started to pray. I loved him so much, so much more, now that my heart was free from the bitterness and anger.

I came home from the workshop to an immediate argument. He was sure that this place was a cult and on and on...for a minute I was flabbergasted. How could I have found all of this freedom and have someone come and take it away? That's when I realized nobody could take it away. I started praying almost immediately. At the workshop, they helped us to come up with a "dagger." That's their word for it. It's just a way of immediately remembering who you are in Christ. Mine was fresh on my mind and I repeated it to myself under my breath and prayed. The strangest thing happened. I felt amazing and the argument stopped. It was like some sort of secret I had discovered. I felt so empowered in that moment to change everything about who I had been.

Ryan was working out of town, so we only saw each other on the weekends. It was August that I went through the workshop and by October I was in need of some serious reinforcement. I attended a follow up workshop and this time God asked me to trust Him. It was as if I could see the words "Trust" written every time I closed my eyes. The people were so ridiculously kind to me and throughout the weekend I realized that I would need to be strong to keep my family together if I really wanted it. This wasn't a very exciting revelation since I had vowed to "not be stronger than Ryan." Some vows are not meant to be kept and this was one of them. If it was coming between me and what Jesus asked me to do, it could not be the best thing for our family.

Speaking of which, I saw the most amazing thing that weekend.

It was so fantastic.

All of Heaven, standing up around me and cheering, "FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!"

It was beautiful.

I told the people there about this and they were kind enough to act it out for me. I know what you're thinking it sounds kind of weird but there was something so powerful about it. They all gathered around me and as I walked through them they shouted "Fight! Fight! Fight!Fight!" I walked away knowing what I had to do, Jesus told me it was time. I was going to have to ask Ryan to attend the workshop so that he could have freedom from the sadness he was carrying around with him, too. I will never forget driving down the road and wondering if this was the end of the road for us. What would it be like to live in an apartment, give up my house, walk away from the life I had been living. I gave all of those worries to Jesus. I knew something had to change. The girls were in the middle of this "trying to survive" state and it was terrible for them.I knew that but I loved Ryan, I was totally at a loss, I didn't want to make him feel like he was being forced into anything by me and resent me for it. But I didn't know what else to do. I choose to follow Jesus, since that had been working rather well for me by that time.

The night the change began

I felt like Esther, that may sound dramatic. But that's how I felt. I drove down to the place where Ryan was employed and asked him to go out to dinner that night. I bought a new dress, got all dressed up and asked everyone of my new friends and family to pray. Thankfully, I was covered in prayer. I popped the big question and I don't know if I was prepared for what happened next, but I was amazingly protected. I felt like I was in a bubble. I felt like every word coming at me dying off and I still don't remember what was said. I know it wasn't good. I left there with the most amazing feeling though, he said no but I didn't feel like I had lost anything by asking. I had followed what Jesus had asked me to do and whatever happened from there was in His hands. I called everyone that had prayed and asked them to keep on praying.

It was about two weeks later when I got the news. Tears flood my eyes when I think about it. I called the workshop to ask them to put Ryan's name on the waiting list for the next workshop, just in case he decided to go at the last minute.

They said, "Oh, he called a few days ago and signed up,

he's already filled out his paper work and he's set to go."

I fell to the ground in tears. I couldn't hold my body up, it was like everything inside me that was keeping everything together came pouring out. I was sobbing and could barely make the words out to the girl who was on the other end of the phone who was saying, "Are you o.k?" Yes, I was not only o.k. I was amazing, because I knew if Ryan could get even an ounce of healing, together we would be completely transformed.

Chapter 3

Back to the Sale

This passionate new found friend told me that the workshop started the very next weekend in a place 30 minutes away from me. I just knew I was supposed to be there. I called and the secretary told me that the workshop was full. I told her I KNEW I was supposed to be there. She offered to put my name on a waiting list but gave a disclaimer with that, because there were 30 people on the waiting list in front of me. I didn't really matter to me, I knew I would get in the workshop. I secured babysitting, held my breath and told my husband who was completely not for it, that I was going. Thankfully, I have the sweetest friends in the world and one of those sweetest friends came and stayed at my house to watch my girls while he worked.

I spent the day before I was supposed to go to the workshop at the doctors. The doctor fleetingly gave me some ulcer prescription samples on the way out of the office door and as sort of last attempt, since they had no idea what was wrong with me, suggested that I give them a try. I intended on going home and was counting on a miracle. I couldn't even function and could barely shuffle into the office and all I really wanted to do was to sleep. I laid on my couch and got the phone call. I was accepted into the workshop and was there anyone else I knew that was interested in coming. My sister was sitting across from me and gladly accepted and just like that, we embarked on the greatest adventure of my life.

As if it were meant to be, the ulcer medicine I had started to take seemed to kick in almost immediately. I sat up on the couch, could feel the color back in my cheeks and knew I was going to make it.

The next day I walked into a waiting room full of people and felt secure. I knew this was a God-ordained event in my life and I was confident that He had things all worked out for me. From the very first song and the very first introduction, I felt my heart begin to beat out of my chest. I could hear it thumping. I had no idea there was a place like this. A place where people could be real, could share their hearts for real. It was unreal. There were people surrounding the room. All of whom were so incredibly compassionate and caring. I knew I wanted to be one of those people (the helpers) but for now, I was going to focus on me.

Boy, was that more difficult than I had planned on.

I realized that in all of the time that I had spent listening, I had not allowed myself to talk, to really talk to anyone. I hadn't talked about the depression, hurt and utter remorse I was feeling about my life.

I began to let them use a crow bar and try to crack open the locks that were securely placed on my heart. I made the greatest discovery. I was such a good girl. I did everything right. I dressed the right part, talked the right part, but I absolutely was so incredibly mad at my Creator. I mean I think hated would be an appropriate word. You see, I had miscarried. Not once, but twice and the second one, it sent me really reeling. I was mad at God for taking that one. I felt like I had done everything right in life and He didn't keep up His "end of the bargain." I had heard the message preached in our churches to do right and you will "be blessed." This wasn't working for me. I had a failing marriage, a daughter who I couldn't figure out and He had taken my baby from me. Where was the good in that? To hear the sound of those words squeeze out of my mouth felt like the ultimate betrayal to my faith, to the church I was raised in and to my life.

This was what my life was all about, I had lived my life for God and here I sat, angry, mad and hurt and it was all pointed in His direction.

It was the most beautiful place for me to start.

I sat there and poured my heart out and nobody gasped, nobody was disturbed, nobody labelled me as a rebel or a failure, instead...they were the hands and feet of Jesus Christ. They listened and loved and gently took my hand and guided me out of that dark, hellish place. I absolutely flew out of that place that weekend. I mean FLEW. I was soaring. One lady had said that weekend, that she pictured me as a butterfly on a beautiful path but one wing was broken and I couldn't fly. Another lady said that she pictured me as a beautiful ballerina dancer that had been sat in the corner and told not to dance. Yet another said that I was a beautiful painting with all of the vibrant colors missing. Those things completely broke who I was pretending to be. I had gone there with thoughts of people judging me, like one college mentor who said, you need to smile more, you just don't smile enough and people think you're unfriendly. Instead of that, they saw through my smile, into my eyes and then into the depths of my soul. They could see the deep sadness that I thought I was hiding and that meant that others could see it too. I was done pretending.

So, I began the process of digging out the bad and gorging on the good. I felt the love of Jesus Christ fill my heart in such a way that I had never felt before. I was overflowing with the goodness and literal saving grace of Jesus and I would truly never be the same again.

This isn't where the story ends, this is just the beginning. I went home to find that I had an enemy. And that enemy wasn't interested in me having this new found freedom and I was going to be challenged every step of the way, but that was okay, I had found something greater, Some One greater and His name was Jesus and greater still,

He had enraptured my heart.

Chapter 2:

As long as I kept on pretending I figured I could pull it off for a few more months, maybe try to secretly save some money and would dream of starting life all over again. I couldn't have because then Ryan would come after me and I, well, I had no idea what to do with him. We just couldn't get along. Either I was too weak or he was too strong or the combination of both of those seemed to be deadly to our union. The unfortunate thing about this was that I absolutely adored the man. I fell in love with him at 16 and just adored the essence of who he was and I saw so much greatness in him. The only problem was I hadn't seen the greatness in a long time.

The walls of hurts, frustrations, devastation and losses

in our life and marriage seemed too great to overcome.

I held onto them firmly simply because I had no idea what else to do with them. I could feel the tension grow stronger and stronger between us and really couldn't see my way out of it. I had tried and so had he. In Bible college, they had taught us both how to treat each other only those things just seemed more crippling than anything at this point. For instance, let your husband be the spiritual leader. Well, what if your husband is a little lost and sad and filled with disillusionment? Where did that leave me? And what if your wife wasn't practically perfect in every way and got jealous and sad? What did he know about making those things feel better in me?

This is where I sat in the battle of my life.

Confused, angry, really hurt and I had completely lost who I was--

IF I had ever really known that.

That brings me back to the porch swing that day. I will never forget it because hope was born that day, not just for me, but for a lot of people that I loved deeply.

I mentioned earlier that I had just finished reading the Shack. Well, I had a fabulous idea. I could see places all around the country named "The Shack," where people could go to get help. They could "spend the weekend with Jesus" and be transformed. I felt like it was fantastic and even e-mailed the author about the idea. It was just burning deep inside me to spend 4 days with God.

I got up off of that porch swing and made a very feeble attempt. To get in my car, drive around my neighborhood and look for some garage sales. This was one of my favorite things to do and I didn't have my girls so I thought I would feel better if I ventured out. It kind of felt like I was in slow motion. During the time that I was sick, all of the steps that it took to get out the door felt like an eternity. Sometimes, before church I would lay on the ground by my closet and be curled up in a ball dreading having to get another outfit together to wear. The touch of clothes on my skin felt dreadful. Ryan's call from downstairs would jolt me into reality and I would start the process of getting dressed.

I drove down the street and got out of my car. To my deep dismay I saw a church member of the church we were attending. Not that she in particular was judgmental, but I felt the judgments always. I didn't look nice, I had no make-up on, I had barely gotten myself out of bed. Slowly, after muddling through talking to her, I looked up to hear a few girls talking about Jesus.

They had just finished praying with a lady that had cancer right there at the sale.

I found this mesmerizing.

This is who I longed to be and yet couldn't really ever get there. There seemed to be a muzzle firmly placed on my mouth and I could never really get things out about Him, especially in public, for goodness sake! The girls started asking me questions and I slowly started answering, not too open to conversation in my state, until we started talking about the Shack. That was something I could talk about all day long. I told my idea sheepishly to the girls about having a place people could go to for 4 days to get all of their "stuff" out and the very evangelistic girl said, "I know of a place just like that a few miles from here!" "It's a workshop where people go and get all of their hurts worked out." I have no idea what she said from then on. My heart started pounding and I knew in the depths of my soul that this is what my heart was longing for, I knew I would go. I would do anything I could to get there. I imagine it was how people felt in the days of Jesus getting to the healing pool of Bethesda. If I got there, I knew my journey was changing and I would begin to be healed. Not just of physical pain, but emotional and in the depths of my heart I knew that hope was on the horizon.

Feeling Lost

Chapter 1: 

Searching out my calling

Only just a few years ago I found myself depressed, feeling alone and at the edge of complete despair. It seems hard to picture now because life has changed--I have changed so much since then. But I guess that is where my story begins.

Walking in the shadow of who I was:

I could hear the loud creak of the porch swing and could feel the warmth of the mild summer day on my face. I found my circumstances to be so strange since deep inside this wasn't who I was at all. I was barely able to function. I had been sick for a looong time. I really couldn't remember how long and I couldn't really remember when I had felt normal last. I felt covered in despair and thoughts of not suicide, necessarily, but not living, went through my mind almost constantly.

My two little girls were being taken care of by family members and the overwhelming feelings of worthlessness in not being able to care for my own children were not lost on me. We had been on the highs and lows of finding a more permanent job for Ryan (my husband of then 7 years) and I guess you could say we were both just trying to survive. I was trying to help him out of his state of frustration and hopelessness while I was stuck in mine.

Something wasn't working.

I had lost my fight.

All around me hopelessness seemed endless.

At that time, three of some of the closest people to me were going through divorces. My need to help people or "save" people became completely overwhelming. So much so that if the phone rang, my stomach was sick at the thought of answering since I really felt like there was nothing I could say that would help anyone feel any better. Seeing the people I loved in pain and their children in pain, and MY children in pain was beginning to be way too much for me to bear.

I could hear the faint sound of music by Chris Rice in the background and felt smugly happy that at least I had that. I had been raised in "fundamental baptist" background and me listening to this kind of "out of the box" (grin) music seemed to make me feel like something in my life was in fact changing. I cried out to Jesus. I had just finished reading the book, The Shack (gasp and if you haven't read it---read it). I for the first time began to long to spend the weekend with Jesus. I wanted to talk to him about my life, my friends lives and what had become of the idea of "Christianity?" Then the really, really BIG question would come. Why wasn't it "working" for us? I knew He had all the answers, if I could just talk to Him. I just knew He did. I knew in His kind and gentle way He would lead me the right way, which He eventually did. Even in that moment of hopelessness and despair, something deep inside me knew there was more out there to be had, I just had to find it.

In this moment, I was lost, uncertain and felt so alone. But for my marriage, my children, my family, and my friends...I had to find a better way. I had to. I just had to.

This is where life began to change.